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#angry white guy music
tygerland · 1 year
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kachowder · 2 months
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i need more of the pervy fanboy yandere content please i miss him bye I love your work
Rage Quit
Obsessed!Fan x Streamer!Gn!reader
summary: Collin’s favorite streams are the ones where you lose your cool.
a/n: Collins a creep, perverted behavior, parasocial relationship, nsfw.(S/N) “Streamer Name”
★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・
“No…no..no FUCK!”
Green eyes stared intently at the recording, watching as the content creator flopped back dramatically in their chair. Their eyes screwed in irritation, hands dug against the skin of their forehead as they dragged them down, exaggerating their expression.
Music played softly in his ears.
“Man…sorry guys I really thought we were gonna win that one..”
A ping went off, and Collins breath hitched, caught in his throat as he heard the little bot chime.
“BigRed donated 45$….‘Don’t worry (S/N), they just got lucky.’”
You snorted, that disappointed gleam in your eyes fading as you stretched with a groan. “You got that right Red, thanks for the Dono. I just wasn’t locked in, this next one guys, demolished. They’re screwed, royally.” You laughed, glancing at the chat wall, mumbling thank you’s and replies to other fans as you did, but he wasn’t listening.
His hand was to busy fisting the fabric of his gym shorts to listen, while his other sped across his keyboard. Click clack click clack.
His alt account.
“MushroomGhost donated 1000 bits….’Hey (S/C), it’s my best friends birthday…do you think you could say “Happy Birthday Collin”? That’d really make his day. Thank so much! Love the streams.”
He waited.
“Mmm….oh! Hey Ghost thank you for the bits..duh duh…oh, hey Collin! Happy birthday man hope you’re having a good day, thank you for the support! Love you lots!” Your hands curved together, a small heart formed in the gap as you grinned at the camera briefly.
His mouse clicked.
“Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Collin!”
“Fuck..” The saliva in his throat thickened, eyes watering as his cheeks burned red hot to the tips of his ears, his heart thundered in his chest violently.
His hand crept down. “Collin!”
Rewind.
“Collin!”
He gasped, lip ringing shining with the saliva that began to dribble down the side of his mouth, eyes fluttering. He felt like he was gonna pass out. He was sweating buckets but he didn’t wanna take the jacket off. It was your merch. It was signed. He couldn’t take it off.
His cock throbbed after being released from his shorts. Angry and red, swelling and pulsing as your voice rang and smashed into his skull.
“Collin!”
Rewind.
“Mmmmf- fuck…fuck..!”
He was being too rough. He whimpered behind the fabric of his hoodie, caught between his teeth and soaked in his saliva as his hand jerked so violently along his cock.
It wouldn’t take long. Never did with you.
But he needed to be quick. Your stream was almost over.
“Hey BigRed, what game should we play after this?”
“Shit!” White shot across his hands, sweatshirt, dripping onto the desk and floor as he heaved.
He cursed under his breath at the mess, but his vision swam and his head throbbed like he was drunk as his high began to crash back down again.
Number three.
Only 30 minutes left for number four.
“BigRed donated 100$….’Remember getting over it?’”
“Why do you always pick the ones that piss me off??”
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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month
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Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader
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18+ MDNI
Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)
Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.
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“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”
“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 
“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 
You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 
“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 
When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 
See, Joel. I’m responsible. 
“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 
“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 
“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 
You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 
“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 
“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 
He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 
When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 
“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 
Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 
He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 
“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 
“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 
“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 
The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 
“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 
Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 
You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 
When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 
You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 
You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 
“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 
His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 
He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 
“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 
Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 
You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 
His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 
“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 
He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 
You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 
The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 
His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 
“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 
You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?
You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 
“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”
Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 
Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 
His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 
He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 
He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 
Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 
“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 
Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 
Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 
You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 
You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 
“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 
You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 
“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 
You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 
Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 
Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 
You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 
His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 
“Mm-hmm” 
“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 
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Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
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Dp x Dc AU: Not exactly a meet cute between Jazz and Jason.
Jason's had a long night of beating the shit out of a gang that dared to sell in his territory, the last thing he needs is the Bats on his tail. He can always sense them when he leaves Crime Alley- they watch for him. Waiting for him to fail. It pisses him off.
So Jason shakes his tail, he's pretty sure it's the demon brat, parks his bike, removes his helm and heads into the loudest bar he can find, ditching his mask along the way. There are no camera's and there was no one watching, so Jason just looks like any other angry frat guy at the bar. Well, he supposes that the Leather jacket might be a stand out.
He grabs a drink, and looks at the time. Jason just needs to wait out the chance that a baby bird saw his bike and hope that curfew kicks in before this has to be a 'conversation'. Besides, the music is good and despite all the people, the crowd is pretty behaved.
"Hi! I'm so glad you're here!" A woman approaches, he can tell she's had a few drinks from her walk but her eyes scream sobriety and fear. She's tall in her flats, her hair looks disheveled (from dancing maybe) and her outfit screams 'this is the one fun black top I own'. She's beautiful and her approaching him might've been a wet teenage dream if his suspicions weren't immediately raised.
"I certainly am here." Jason replies, a smirk set into his features easily and as he straightens out his back he can see the three men watching the back of her head like predators. They're wearing super lame white hoodies and coats, like they're organized somehow.
"That's why you're my hero! Always ready to grab me at a moment's notice! Any chance you'll be good to leave after you finish that drink?" Her eyes are pleading but she keeps the same happy smile and joyful tone the whole time.
"Nah, no worries about the drink. It was cheap and I was just getting bored with it anyway. " Jason explains, setting his glass down on the counter. He's mentally photographed the three creeps, "Did any of your friends also need a ride home?"
"Nope! They all got in an uber... without me. So they'll be just fine!" She explains and there is an anger in her eyes that clearly meant she was telling the truth. Her hands are straightening out his jacket collar, making it look like they're more comfortable with each other than just strangers. She lays her hands flat on his chest once her task is completed and Jason feels his throat go dry.
"I'm always telling you to find better friends. Now c'mon, I parked out back." he wraps an arm around her waist, though its not tight, and peers over his shoulder. These guys weren't going to leave without a fight it seems, Dumb, Dumbie and Dumber are all watching her with evil in their eyes.
The two of them walk out and before she can even say thank you, the door swings back open and she's sucker punched one of the assholes and Jason's pulled his gun out for the other two.
"You gents are gunna go home, or you're gonna end up in the dirt. Pick." Jason growls. Not taking him seriously at first, he shoots one dudes foot and the last one standing looks like he might pass out. He picks up his fallen comrades and backs away into the bar.
"For ancients sake those dudes were trying to traffic the hell out of me." She sighs, and Jason holsters his gun.
"Yeah no shit. You okay?" Jason inquires.
"I will be. I'm Jazz, thanks for saving me Hood."
"I'm no-"
"You're literally leaning comfortably on Red Hoods motorcycle that still has his helmet perched on it. No one would do that unless they were suicidal or him." She challenges, but then a look changes in her eyes and she almost looks nervous "But still, do you uhm, wanna get out of here?"
He blinks. She was trying to pick him up? AFTER finding out he was a crime lord??
The answer is that yes, Hell Yes, Jason does want to get out of here. None of the Bats will bother him while he has a civilian, not at the diner he takes her too and certainly not while he's taking her back to one of his safe houses.
Jason had expected one of his siblings to show up in the morning and cause a ruckus. He hadn't planned for a dude to let himself into his kitchen screaming about government agencies tracking Jazz down that wasn't related. Turns out it's her brother and he's floating and no he's not going to explain why he's there or how he found them.
Jazz has a lot to explain to the both of them and it starts with "So I can admit that I have a thing for motorcycle guys-"
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midnightorchids · 27 days
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Jason Todd headcanons
- he smokes a lot
- he listens to either really aggressive rap or rock music, however he does indulge in “softer” music here and there
- he’s pretty soft spoken except for when he’s angry. he has a short temper, so he gets annoyed really fast, but it takes a lot to actually make him angry
- he has all of his weapons on display in big ass frames and he’s named them all
- he’s a really good fighter - muay thai boy for sure
- speaking of which, i think if he had a day job, he’d probably coach some sort of martial arts or maybe be a gym instructor
- if he went to uni he would’ve studied english literature and would’ve have minored in a foreign language
- he has a scar on his lip (like toji from jjk) idk why tho (it’s just hot lol)
- uses humour to cope
- so so many death jokes
- he does not like coffee, he drinks tea
- definitely knows latin
- he wears jewelry, a thin silver chain and maybe a couple of rings
- he’s pretty handy… he can fix a lot of stuff. literally anything from cars to laptops to ikea furniture
- he has that white steak in his hair and he has a huge atopsy scar on his chest, he also has a faint scar on his neck
- roy calls him the walking dead
- he struggles with nightmares and they’re frequent. he needs a smoke break after
- he also has panic attacks and he doesn’t like being touched when he’s going through them, but he doesn’t like being alone. he needs to be reminded that he’s home, he’s alive, he’s okay and he’s safe
- he has blue light reading glasses but he only wears them at home when no one is there to judge him
- he likes cat videos
- he also sends cat memes in the family group chat
- OH and he definitely has a cat with a either a really dumb name or it’s named after his fav book character (cough cough mr darcy cough)
- he picks up damian from school sometimes, he complains, but in reality he really doesn’t mind. they talk about the books damian is reading in his english class
- he’s tall but he’s not 6’4 tall he’s more like 6ft or 6’1
- he’s a good cook definitely better than the other boys
- him and alfred cook together. this one time they cooked a really big batch of pasta and he took it to his old neighbourhood to feed the kids
- he’s pretty reckless and does not care about his safety at all, so he ends up pretty bruised up
- will ALWAYS try to one up dick. dick did a back flip? guess what jason did 20 back flips! dick took down two guys during patrol? yeah jason took down the whole damn team
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dragonpastels · 3 months
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I've noticed a certain trend of either giving the boys dragons or turning them into dragons, and since I am legally required to participate I decided to combine the boys with another franchise I love dearly. Do y'all like How to Train Your Dragon? Transcript down below! and click for better quality!
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Raph Class: Boulder Description: The beast that spared me the other day seems to be protecting a group of smaller beasts. Which unfortunately includes that troublemaker who has been stealing from me. It watches me carefully as the others go about, but as long as I do not get too close it does not seem to be aggressive. The smaller one likes to approach me which I have tried to gently chase away, but the large beast starts to growl if I do.
Top Left: they ate a rock like it was a snack! Top Middle: the others also like to climb on top while Raphael is sleeping. Middle right: The smaller creature likes to hide in the rocks that cover their back. Bottom Middle: Whoah! It spits lava too! The boulders explode after a time leaving a crater of magma behind. Will observe from a distance.
Mikey Class: Stoker Description: The small one likes to come up to me and if I don't pet them they spit sparks at me and become agitated. it is quite the energetic guy and can tuck itself in its shell and become a spinning tornado of sparks and flames. It seems to do this more frequently when they are excited, or angry, or bored, or any strong emotion it seems.
Top Right: Latest work Middle Right: a recreation of them standing in front of their work. They seemed very proud. Bottom Right: it is kind of cute how they sleep. Their snout does not fully go into their shell. Which is quite adorable. Sweet dreams little guy. Bottom Left: The edge of their wing is rock-like. Leo Class: Strike Description: This one has been keeping a distance for some time, but It finally approached me. This one is adorned with beautiful patterns which they seem to love showing off. They seem to enjoy bothering the others and why they put up with it I will probably never know. their favorite one to bother seems to be the thief. Rightfully deserved. I saw this creature create wells of blue energy in the sky which they will fly into and disappear! I need to get closer to observe. I will name this fancy fellow Leonardo.
Top Right: Filthy thief. Middle Right: This one spits electricity! They will purposely hold a charge near me to ruin my hair... I think they find it funny... Bottom Left: I need to know what this is! Donnie Class: Mystery Description: This filthy thief is the one who has been bothering me since I became stranded here. their favorite thing to do appears to be stealing anything that interests it. List of things that interest it -a shovel -an old latch -rope I was going to trap it with -and mom's music box It appears to have made itself some armor from twisted metal and shields. that it carries on its back. Even though it freely approaches me I can not do the same or else it will flee, and when it does it hides behind Raphael. It knows Raphael will protect them. I can't think of any other name more fitting than Donatello.
Top Left: It has a hard underside but is soft on the rest of its body It didn't realize I was under it it let out a spooked squeak Middle Right: It has these strange spots along its nose. Bottom Right: I had to hide in a tree to get this view Bottom Left: Their eyes go white when they work it must be protecting its eyes. it uses its fire breath to attach the metal together.
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crucifixscrown · 3 months
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7 MINUTES IN HELL .
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Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
AU: College AU
WARNINGS:
Ellie gets angry, swearing, alcohol & drug usage, peer pressure, and cheating implied
SMUT. Swearing, pet names ( just baby), strap usage (r!receiving), oral (e!receiving), cum eating, a little roughness, not proofread, no specific descriptions of reader’s appearance! Let me know if I missed anything!
SUMMARY: Ellie finds out your deepest darkest college secret. Now she has to sort you out.
WC: 1.4K
SMUT BELOW !
You hadn't been to a party since your freshmen year. When you first started dating Ellie. You and her were a popular couple for a few months. You'd think you'd be broken up by now, given the circumstances of college. But here you are. Getting ready for a party, with Ellie.
She had convinced you, of course. You'd be locked up in your studies for hours and hours since freshmen year. Yet she never knew why. Her begging and pleading having you where you are now.
Walking into a stereotypical frat party, smelling of booze and strong perfume. The music overwhelms your ears.
"C'mon, babe. Enjoy yourself. "
Ellie whispers into your ear, holding her hand on your waist. Kissing under your ear before jotting off to meet with her friends.
Fuck this, you think. You wanna go home. You don't even touch a cup. Or a blunt.
Minutes later, hours it felt like. They call for seven minutes in heaven. You don't do games anymore. Especially that game. You hate that fucking game.
You hear the party host.. some random white guy with the stereotypical ice cream-shaped hair. He's screaming,
" Everybody in here! If you aren't here, you're a pussy! "
Then you're the only one on the couch. You don't know where Ellie is, hell, do you even know where you are? You feel like everyone is watching you.
Because they are.
" Are you coming or what? "
Some random brunette blurts out.
" No, I'm good! "
You decline, shaking your head.
Partygoers collectively groan.
" What happened to all of that bull you were spitting out at the last party? You a lame? "
The brown-haired girl spits out.
" I'm sober now. I'm not like that. "
You mutter.
" Like what? A cheater? "
The room was silent.
Ellie was silent.
But her eyes spoke volumes.
" Just get in the closet, it's only 7 minutes. Your 'girllfriendd' can even go in with you! "
The girl continues. A crowd yells around you. All you can hear is " Do it! Do it! "
Ellie was already storming into the bedroom. You just needed to toughen up and go in, scared for your outcome.
" Fine. "
You stutter.
You followed Ellie and entered the bedroom with sweaty palms. The door shut behind you and the timer had begun. You and Ellie, alone together in a bedroom. You could feel the tense silence between you, it was tangible.
You both stayed on different sides. Ellie’s green eyes pierced into your flesh, and you felt them even as your head was lowered. You were trying to not look at her, you knew she was angry. All your drunk antic making you feel regretful. You ache.
Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“ If you think anything is happening after what I just heard, you’re wrong. “
She grunts.
" Ellie.. you.. I.. it was a long time ago... I was.. - "
You hick, guilt striking you like a bullet to your chest.
" It doesn't fucking matter. "
She snapped back, and you shudder.
" Just stay on your side, don't bother me. "
" Okay, Ellie. "
You both stay silent until the door opens again.
" Times up !! "
You rush out. Immediately running out of the party, trying not to stumble over your heels. Tears forming. But you wouldn't cry over this, you brought this onto yourself.
You wait for what feels like hours in the cold with no warmth until your girlfriend comes.
" Ellie can we- "
She cuts you off.
" Get in the car. "
You follow.
The car ride was horrible. The silence was eating you up inside. You could feel her eyes look at you with anger from time to time. The traffic lights highlighted your tears she didn't care about one bit.
When you get back to your apartment, you quickly put your things away to try and have a personal conversation with Ellie, but you're stopped when a hand is put against your neck and you're banged into the wall.
" I didn't fuck you good enough? My cock wasn't good enough that you just had to go cheat, huh? Answer me. "
She grunts, one hand on the back of your neck, the other palming at your clothed cunt. It makes you gargle your words.
" You can't speak anymore? Did she have you like this? "
She rubs her thumb in a line in the middle of your neck. You whine.
" No..no... Ellie please.. "
" Please what? Do you still think I'm gonna have sex with you? Oh no no no. "
She laughs. Taking her hand off your intimacy and throwing you down onto the couch.
" And I was gonna take care of you so good tonight. "
She tsks.
" Now I just have to fuck you up. "
You shiver.
“ Strip. “
You do. Your clothes are off in a matter of seconds.
Your arousal was almost everywhere, sticking to the inside of your thighs. You could feel it, and you were embarrassed.
“ Fucking slut. Turn around. “
You listen and turn around to kneel on the couch cushions, your hands gripping onto the back of the couch.
You can hear her pants unzip and her harness buckle, you can also hear her walk up to you.
She slips a finger through your folds, making you whine quietly.
" You're fucking soaked, all that ‘cause I’m mean to you? You're a slut.”
Without warning, she slips into you. You moan.
She's extremely rough, her nails digging into your hips. You know you'll have scars tomorrow, but do you really have time to think about that now?
The loud sound her strap makes when she pushes it back into you is downright pornographic. You'd be embarrassed for yourself and your neighbors if you weren't already so cockdrunk. You let out a loud whine when she’s putting an arm around your neck yanking you up, your back forcibly pressed plush against her soft breasts. It's so rough that it has you dizzy, and your hands are reaching behind to try and push her away. But she won't let you.
" Think it's fun to fuck another bitch now? Huh? "
Ellie moans out, thrusting particularly hard at the word " fuck "
You shake your head, and she pushes her arm further to your neck.
" Speak to me. " She snarls.
" No.. no I don't!! " You choke and moan.
You and Ellie's grunts are obscene. The familiar coil in your stomach slowly comes, and Ellie can tell.
" You think you deserve to cum? You don't. "
She says, pulling out and leaving you whining for her to let you. " You just HAD to go and whore around ."
" Ellie, please I'm sorry .. "
You beg.
" Of course you're sorry now. "
She says, unbuckling her harness.
" C'mere. "
" What? "
You sniffle.
" You don't deserve it, but I do. "
You scatter off the couch onto the floor and kneel in front of your clearly upset girlfriend. You look up at her, and she isn't even looking at you.
" Go ahead. "
She mutters.
And you gladly do. Your hand goes to her thigh as you use your thumb to spread her cunt. Flatting your tongue and licking a strip from her hole to her clit before sucking at the enlarged bundle of nerves. Her head tilts up as her hands come to your head. She moans as she shoved you more into her. The pressure of your tongue laps against her sensitive bud, you try to pull away to breathe but her hold is unforgiving, inescapable. But you like it. You let her fuck herself on your face. Grinding her clit against your nose, moaning and groaning.
" Agh.. I'm gonna .. - Fuck.. I'm... - "
Ellie's voice shatters as she weakens, her body nearly giving out as she releases onto you, her slick dripping from your chin. You let her chase her release before letting go of your head. You lap at her release, practically licking her clean.
" This is all you're fucking good for. "
She pants.
" Sleep on the couch or something. "
As she says this, she walks into your shared room and locks the door.
You lay on the floor, your head rested on the couch.
Moments later you can hear her unlock the door, her footsteps getting louder and louder.
"C'mon, Let me clean you up and help you. I'd feel bad leaving you here dirty. "
She sighs, lifting you into her arms.
" I'm sorry Ellie .. "
You sob.
" I know sweetheart. "
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honeylations · 2 months
Text
HUH YUNJIN x FEM!READER
Prompt: The girlies spend their day at a new cafe and Yunjin falls head over heels when she spots you working in your white sweater and grey apron.
Warnings/Notes: fluff, comedy, non idol au
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“Let’s go let’s gooooo! Yunjin Unnie you’re wasting our time!!” A cutely angry Eunchae growled while tugging on her member’s black sweater in public.
“Seriously Yunjin, you’ve taken enough pictures of the streets in Seoul already!” Chaewon added which put an end to the American girl’s photography.
“You guys just don’t understand my love for photos. Fake friends you are” Yunjin joked and linked her arms with the maknae as all five girls continued walking down the street.
“This cafe better be good, Zuha. If it’s expensive and shit, I’m throwing your ass out the window” The leader spoke again to which Kazuha shivered at.
“Hey, Minjeong Unnie gave the suggestion and promised me it was worth trying so~ you can throw HER ass out the window”
They all saw the cute chalkboard sign outside the cafe that read “OPEN” and the shop was surprisingly not as busy as the girls had expected. As they fully entered, the only customer the cafe had was an occupied uni student in a booth, indulged into whatever she was typing in her computer and the music playing through her headphones.
“Ok good, it’s not crowded. Where’s the menu…woah” Yunjin said breathlessly, her sudden falter had the other members looking at her weirdly before seeing what (more like who) she was staring at.
You quickly wiped your freshly washed hands with a towel before chucking it to the side and flashing a bright smile at the group.
“Good morning, welcome to the Sunny Cafe! Are you all ready to order?”
Sakura cleared her throat as Yunjin was clearly not recovering from the daze so as the eldest, she decided to speak. “Good morning, it’s our first time coming here so we’re not too sure what to get yet”
To Yunjin, it seemed like your smile got brighter.
“No rush at all, ma’am! If you would like a recommendation, our matcha latte is a customer favourite!”
Sakura smiled sweetly towards you. “Thank you. I think my friends need a little more time to decide. Is that okay?”
“Of course, ma’am! Just give me a shout when you’re ready to order” You winked, sending a jolt in all five girls’ hearts.
“Ok, now I can agree that Yunjin’s reaction is appropriate” Chaewon sighed, unable to recover from your presence.
“Back off. My eyes were on her first” Yunjin finally spoke.
“Oh please, now you wanna talk? Grow a spine Yun. You can’t act like a weirdo everytime you see a pretty girl” Sakura complained and scanned through the menu in her hands. “But anyways since you wanna be like that, I can order for all of us—“
“No! I want to order my own!” The American stated loudly that you turned around with the same smile but Yunjin immediately cowered.
“Fine. Order your own then, brat”
Yunjin puffed her chest and approached the counter where your back was facing her so she cleared her throat. You spun around again and got your hands ready on the till.
“Hello! Ready to order—“
“HI IM YUNJIN!” The girl suddenly yelled, catching you and the other girls off guard.
Sakura face palmed and hid her face behind the menu.
“Nice to meet you Yunjin. I’m Y/n. What can I get for you?”
Yunjin was thankful you didn’t run away.
“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that”
“It’s no problem. That was probably the strongest greeting I’ve gotten today”
Yunjin leaned one arm on the counter and nervously scratched her nape. “Is that a good thing?”
“Absolutely! Makes my day a little brighter” You giggled, finding shy Yunjin so so so cute.
In fact, you marked the girl as eye candy that moment you caught a glimpse of her outside the cafe window. You spammed quick texts to your groupchat about how hot you found this girl before putting your phone away and bringing out your amazing customer service.
It was extra amazing for the pretty customers. Like Yunjin.
“I’m glad I could make your day. Can I please order that matcha latte you recommended with some extra sugar to hide the seaweed taste…Is that too picky of me to request?”
You threw your head back laughing, making Yunjin melt internally at how angelic it sounded. “I’ve had worse customers, don’t you worry. I’ll try my best to make it less…seaweedie for you. Anything else I can get you?”
“What else would you recommend?”
“This conversation is going longer than I expected. You reckon she scored her?” Chaewon whispered to the other 3 girls who could only shrug.
“Well the girl is laughing and smiling so Yunjin must be doing something right”
“Unless she’s embarrassing herself” Kazuha mumbled.
“Can she hurry up? I want to order the croissant!” Eunchae huffed and eyed the beautifully displayed pastries next to the counter.
“Patience, Eun. Let’s give Yunjin some time to at least the girls number”
“Well if you need something more sweet to balance out the matcha, our strawberry cream cake is a great choice”
“Add that in!” Yunjin pulled out her card.
“Gave you a 50% discount so just $7.50 please”
The taller girl’s eyes widened. “Woah a discount? What for?”
“For cuties like you” you winked despite your heart going crazy at your pathetic attempt of flirting.
“Oh is that so? Sad to know other people probably get the discount too” Yunjin faked a pout that you wanted to kiss so badly.
“Oh don’t seem so down. You’re the only person I’ve given that discount to. I swear!”
Yunjin smiled and tilted her head at you, like a cute puppy. “Well am I cute enough to get your number?”
“Wow, confident are we?” You smirked after seeing Yunjin pay for her food.
“Taking a chance before I lose it”
Slowly nodding at her statement, you took her receipt and scribbled your number at the top, not forgetting to add a love heart at the end.
“Awesome…” Yunjin whispered to herself as she stared at the numbers in her hand.
“Pleasure serving you, Yunjin. Hope to see a message from you soon”
“W-Wait! Are you free on the weekends? I’d like to take you out sometime…for dinner”
You smiled at her, appreciating her boldness. “I work until 3pm on the weekends so we can sort something out”
“Cool. That’s like so cool. U-Um, thank you”
“Thank you?” A chuckled escaped your lips. “For what?”
“For not thinking I’m creepy”
“You’re not even close to creepy! I’m glad we could have this conversation, Yunjin. I’ll quickly make your order so your friends don’t keep waiting” You said, pointing at the impatient girls behind the taller.
The impatient girls actually just being Eunchae.
“Oh right. Thanks again. I’m looking forward to tasting your recommendation”
“Are you done?” Eunchae grumbled closely behind, Sakura’s credit card clenched tightly in her palm.
Yunjin took notice of it and arched a brow. “You’re making Kkura Unnie pay for your baby food?”
“I JUST WANT A CROISSANT!”
Yunjin jumped out of the way and made a face. “OKAY DAMN, I’LL MOVE! Not too far from Y/n though otherwise I’ll miss her too much” Yunjin winked, almost sending you into cardiac arrest.
“So NOW you have confidence? I don’t get you sometimes” Chaewon threw her arms up in defeat as Yunjin waved her receipt with your number on it.
“That’s because I scored the pretty girl!”
Despite focusing on making Yunjin’s matcha latte, you could see her doing a silly victory dance in the corner of your eye while Eunchae was frowning, clearly hangry from all the waiting.
A/N: something cute for yall because Yunjin is a cutie patootie ❤️
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beansprean · 1 year
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Izzyhuahua is the most insanely accurate characterization yet. Thank you @batsarebetterthanpeople for your post.
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Ed, in a modern black tee shirt and jeans, walks in a door that dings when he opens it. He has a square shaped cloth shoulder bag strapped over his chest that is decorated with skulls and embroidered with "Izzy" at the top. Popping up from inside is a dark brown long haired Chihuahua with white on his muzzle, spots on his head that look like angry eyebrows, and a spot on his cheek that looks like an x. 1b. Ed from the back as he holds up dog Izzy with both hands, saying, "you're gonna have to sedate him." Lucius, dressed as a vet tech in peach scrubs and a red kerchief, holds out his hands to take him with a smirk, responding dismissively, "Haha, don't worry! Dr. Bonnet can handle this little guy." Izzy growls softly. 1c. 10 minutes later. Lucius reappears, hair missed, clothes torn, and a bloody bandage around his left pointer finger. He holds out a form on a clipboard and says, "Yeah, we're gonna need to sedate him."
2a. Close up on Stede, dressed in teal scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck, on a bubbly yellow background. He looks up, eyes widening and cheeks turning red, mouth soft as he fumbles through an introduction, "Hello, I'm Dr. ...uh.... Stede..." 2b. Reverse close up of Ed in a similar state, staring lovestruck and blushing as he responds dazedly, "...Ed..." 2c. Close up on Izzy as he furiously launches himself upwards, growling and snarling! Offscreen, Ed screams, "Ahh, fuck, Izzy, no!!" and Stede shrieks, "Oh God!!" and calls for Lucius.
3a. Later, Izzy is now out cold on an examination table, snoring and tongue sticking out but somehow still looking angry. Text nearby points to him and says "extra extra drugs". Ed and Stede stand on either side of the table, Ed gently petting Izzy's back with a smile as he explains, "He has a lot of separation anxiety... I'd just like him to stop biting people, haha." Stede, arms crossed, looks down skeptically at the dog and just replies, "Right." He thinks to himself, 'Diagnosis: complete asshole.' 3b. Ed looks down, blushing a bit, and continues, "Makes dating kinda tough, heh." Stede immediately perks up but tries to keep it casual, looking everywhere but Ed and sweating at his temple. "oh?" he ventures carefully. "You're single, then?" Ed sighs, replying, "Yeah. Iz here has run off my last two boyfriends." 3c. Ed looks up at the ceiling, playing ignorance, and taps his chin facetiously, wondering aloud, "But maybe if I found someone good with animals...who understood-" Stede, looking sweaty and panicked, interrupts him at top volume with "Do you want to have dinner with me?!" 3d. Stede drops his tomato red face into his hands, mumbling, "I'm sorry, that was so unprofessional..." Ed just beams at him from the other side of the table, clearly having gotten the invite he was fishing for. On the table, Izzy starts to twitch and wake, one angry eye cracking open.
4a. Stede and Ed on a black leather loveseat in Ed's home, mismatched candles the only source of light on either side of them and music drifting sensuously from a speaker. Both are clearly dressed for a date, Stede in a button up and khakis and Ed in a purple henley and gray trousers. They are leaning close, knees interlaced, Ed's hand on Stede's thigh and the other cupping his cheek, Stede with one hand stretched on the back of the couch and the other expertly cupping a wine glass. Their faces are an inch apart, eyes closed, about to have their first kiss. 4b. There is a happy "yip!" as Izzy suddenly jumps up into Ed's lap and places his little paws on his chest, breaking the moment and causing Ed and Stede to jerk back from each other in surprise. 4c. Ed laughs and wraps his hands around the little dog, hearts floating up as he coos, "Aww, Izzy! Did you need some attention?" Unnoticed by Ed, Izzy turns to look at Stede over his shoulder to aim what can only be called a triumphant smirk at him. Stede jerks in surprise and looks immediately offended and angry. /end ID
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1hot-mess-express1 · 25 days
Text
Eepy
WC: 3,084
Based on Eloguentmoon's Romantic Confessions prompt #12 “You are all I can think about.” 
Summary: Satoru can't sleep, and it's all your fault
CW: Slightly suggestive
A/N: I wrote this way too fast, not sure I like it but the brain rot is getting to me (Not proofread). Also would love to have someone to Beta read/edit since I can never bring myself to do that haha, so if anyone is interested message me!
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Satoru’s alarm blares through the otherwise quiet morning air, and he can’t be bothered to jump in surprise despite its ear-grating volume. With a groan, he swings his arm over to slap at his phone a few times, somehow effectively turning off the alarm before reaching up to drag his hand across his face and rubbing the grit from his sunken eyes. He sits upright, his head sagging slightly, his feet haphazardly placed on the ground, and he is staring at his wall, trying to gain the motivation to hoist himself from the bed. He doesn’t notice when his eyes droop and his hands fall limp at his side until he’s startled from his partial sleep by obnoxiously loud music wafting in from your shared bathroom down the hall. He curses before standing up and shuffling his way to the bathroom. Standing in the hallway, he looks at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth, getting toothpaste all over your cheeks before glancing up at him and smiling through your toothbrush. 
“So you’re why these counters are always so dirty, huh? Knew it wasn’t me,” Satoru chuckles to himself while you spit the foam into the sink, effectively spraying the entire bowl. 
You turn to face him fully, hands on your hips like some kind of angry cartoon character. “You’re so full of it, Gojo. You get toothpaste all over the mirror. Just the other day, I watched you wipe hair gel on the counter, too.” 
“Did not, whatever, move. It’s my turn. I have an exam today, and I can’t be late.” He emphasizes his point by lightly shoving you with his shoulder before reaching for his toothbrush. With a grumble and a subtle stomp, you push into his side, reaching for the water cup. 
“It's not my fault you slept in, loser.” You make a point of sticking your tongue out at him in the mirror before filling your cup and swishing your mouth out. Satoru reaches over your hand to grab the capless toothpaste before placing some onto his toothbrush and bringing it to his mouth. 
“It's not my fault I was up all night either,” he mumbles through his toothbrush, lazily swiping at his pearly whites while glaring daggers into you through the mirror as you begin to brush out your hair. 
“I fail to see how that’s my fault. You didn’t have to stay up and movie marathon with me…could have gone to bed at any point.” You elbow him slightly while yanking at a particularly gruesome knot in your hair and fail to notice the slight blush that covers his cheeks at your statement. You’re right; he didn’t have to stay up, but when he thinks back to last night, having you curled up to his side, head resting on his shoulder while you make the softest snoring noise, he can’t help but think that he’d do it again in a heartbeat. 
“Yeah, right, you woulda cried like a baby if I said no. Can’t make it through a jump scare without crying about it,” he giggles to himself before ruffling your hair, effectively undoing your progress, and sliding out of the bathroom before you could yell at him. 
He clicks the door shut and rubs his eyes again. God, he was so lovesick, literally. 
The exhaustion from staying up late with you made him feel awful. His eyes were egregiously sunken in, his skin paler than usual, and his stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t focus while studying, his mind always wandering to you; he wondered what you were up to, what movies you might watch tonight, and if you ended up texting that frat guy back. He thought about how cute you looked in his shirt, washing the dishes while you bitched about it not being his day to do laundry; honestly, he wasn’t paying attention. How could he when you were standing there, engulfed in his shirt, the late sun highlighting your profile perfectly, the back of your plush thighs staring at him, begging to be squeezed? 
After you fell asleep against him during your now nightly movie binges, he found himself tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep while visions of you flashed through his mind repeatedly. Thinking of your hands on his thigh haphazardly as the tiny breaths you puffed out tickled his neck, your chest unknowingly squished into his arm so he could feel the slow rise and fall of your chest—nothing like his own erratic breaths as he tried desperately to keep his attention on whatever movie was playing. When he’d tuck you into your bed after you fell asleep, sometimes he couldn’t help but sit and watch you as you slept so peacefully, unaware of his presence, your hair falling around your face and your arms tucked close to your chin. He knows how creepy that sounds, but he was frankly lovesick, like he said. 
After dragging his palms down his face, he pushes himself from the door with a newfound determination to just get today over with. He throws on a hoodie before glancing at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. He stops for a moment and contemplates doing his hair or even throwing on jeans to try and feel more like himself, but even reaching his arms up to his head makes him feel exhausted, so with a groan, he throws on a beanie and decides not to think about it. 
When he makes his way to the front door, he’s met with you, tipped over in a skirt, trying to pull on your shoes; the back of your skirt is riding up, nearly exposing your panties to him. 
“Gojo?” You must have felt him staring, and he felt his face heat up in response. 
He gulps the shakiness in his voice down before speaking, “Yeah?”
“Do you want to walk to class together today?” you stand up to your full height now, and he can’t help but give you a once over; he looks like a bum next to you, “I have a presentation today, so I figured I should show up a little early.” You offer him a smile as you pull a coat on, trapping your hair underneath it. 
Almost on instinct, he steps towards you and pulls the hair out from your coat, noticing how good you smell when he drops the locks down to your shoulders, “Sure, but I gotta be quick, can’t miss another exam, or I’m fucked, think you can keep up?” He chuckles lightly before swinging his bag over his shoulders and peering down at you. 
“That’s a pretty high demand, considering your legs are so freakishly long, but I’ll try.” you let out a breathy laugh before grabbing your bag and reaching for the door. 
Satoru slips his shoes on and follows you into the crisp morning air. 
“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like shit.” You say while looking him over once and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. Really, he didn’t look much different than every other overworked college student, but he didn’t look like Gojo. He always wore something bordering on too nice for school, dress pants or jeans and a button-up shirt of some kind, never sweat pants and a hoodie.
He scoffed, kicking at rocks on the sidewalk, “So you wore something nice once, and now I’m the bum? Jeez, that’s unfair.” 
“Rude, first of all, I look cute in my sweats, I’ll have you know; secondly, it’s just…weird, you hate leaving your hair down and have told me on several occasions that you can’t stand the way it gets in your eyes, but also you just look sick, are you sleeping okay?” You spare him a glance before looking down towards your shoes, your voice growing a little quieter, “You really don’t have to stay up with me, yaknow?”
“No,” he stammers out a bit too fast for his liking, slowing his pace a little to look at you entirely, “I mean, that’s not it, I just…have a lot on my mind yaknow? Term’s almost over so I’ll be able to sleep all I want soon, and I’ll be back to annoying the shit outta you don’t worry” he lets out a hearty laugh at his last statement. You seem to perk up a little at this statement as if you were really worried about him. 
The rest of the day drags on forever. He falls asleep in his last class, not stirring, even when his classmates hurriedly stuff their belongings into their bags. He lies there blissfully unaware of the world around him. That is until he’s jolted back to reality by a delicate hand pushing his hair away from his eyes. Groggy and unsure, he looks up to see you through the stubborn sleep in his eyes. You look upset, brows furrowed, and a hand on your hip while you lean down to be at eye level with him. 
“That’s it, you’re grounded, Mr.” you huff out before pushing his shoulder in an attempt to get him to move from his place on the desk. 
“Who the fuck’r you to ground me?” he mutters out, slowly making his way to stand before offering you an indignant look. 
“At this rate, I’m starting to think I’m your mother,” you state before reaching down to grab his bag, but he swats your hand away, slinging it over his shoulder haphazardly. 
“Don’t need you to baby me, ‘m grown yaknow?” he speaks through a yawn while stretching out his obscenely lanky body, showing off just the tiny bit of midriff, causing you to avert your eyes with a light flush to your cheeks, but this goes unnoticed by Satoru’s hazy mind. 
“At this rate, I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep in traffic,” you grumble out, tagging behind him as he slowly trudges out to the parking lot. He trips over his own feet a bit, his exhaustion weighing on him like a ton of bricks, swaying slightly, blinking repeatedly in an effort to keep himself awake and upright, blue eyes burning from the afternoon sun. Your smaller frame, keeping pace with him, easily draws a look of concern on your features before you throw his arm over your shoulder in an effort to keep him walking straight. He recedes further into his hood in an effort to hide the blush creeping across his face. Your smaller frame does little to keep him upright; he’s certain that if he were to collapse right now, he’d take you both out, but he keeps this thought to himself, not wanting you to let go of him. He pulls you ever so slightly closer to him, nerves alive at the feel of your small hand on his back despite the copious layers between you. 
You walk home the rest of the way in silence, only letting go of him when you breach the front door of your shared apartment, where Satoru drops his bag at the door with a dramatic thud before sulking over to the couch throwing himself across the couch and reaching for the remote, absentmindedly scrolling through Netflix. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you snap out before striding over to him, snatching the remote from his hands and moving to the edge of the couch before yanking his shoes off, halfheartedly tossing them in front of the door. 
“Well, I was looking for a movie, grump ass,” Satoru mumbles pulling his feet closer to himself in embarrassment. 
“Nope, I said you’re grounded, go get in your bed,” You really were starting to sound like his mom at this rate. 
He looks up at you, absolutely flabbergasted, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words to tell you just how insane you sound. 
“Gojo, you can’t hardly stand up straight, you look like shit, and pretty soon your grades are gonna start dropping…” You bark out before looking meek, fiddling with a stray thread on the arm of the couch to avoid his gaze before continuing, “I’m worried about you. What’s going on?” you look up at him with probably the most adorable look on your face and he’s not sure why, but he crumbles on the spot, he’ll blame the lack of sleep later if this goes poorly for him.
 Folding his arms under his chin, letting his eyes fall closed he mumbles, “It’s your fault anyways,” silently praying you dont hear him but of course you do. 
“How is this my fault?” you bark out with offense, “You’re the one choosing to stay up, besides I know you stay up after you put me to bed.” 
At this, his eyes shoot up, and his face goes beat red. Have you heard him? Oh god, he wishes the floor would swallow him whole at the thought alone. You knew he put you to bed, too? Obviously, you didn’t think you teleported to your bed, but why didn’t you say anything? His heart was in his throat, and his eyes began to sting. This was definitely the exhaustion. He buries his face deeper into the couch, hoping to avoid whatever this is, but of course, you saunter around the couch and crouch down to his level, pushing his hair back with a tentative hand. 
“Gojo…please, just tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this…” your voice barely above a whisper. He mumbles into the couch, tucking his head impossibly further into the cushions. 
“What?” You lean in impossibly closer, and he feels dizzy. God, why were you like this?
His head shoots up from the couch, allowing you too see just how red his face is, blue eyes determined and brows trained down in anger. 
“You’re all I can fucking think about, and it’s killing me!” He huffs out in a single breath. Your eyes go wide, and you bring your hand closer to your chest, leaning back on your heels and putting distance between you two. 
When you speak, your voice is shaky and barely audible, “I-I’m sorry…” Shit, his jaw goes slack, and he can’t seem to find the words when your eyes glitter, threatening to spill over with tears at his sudden outburst. 
“No, fuck, I-I…It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, I just…” He reaches out tentatively, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing soothing circles into your cheek, searching your eyes for the words that might make this better. He lets out a heavy sigh, looking down again, he thinks to himself fuck it. He looks back up at you, gently urging your head closer to his, “You’re all I can think about. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I close my eyes to sleep, and all I can see is your cute little pout begging me to share my snacks, or the way you look first thing in the morning, hair a mess and eyes heavy with sleep, when I read I hear you laugh over and over again, that sweet giggle or the roaring laughter that has you rolling on the floor, I think about how you feel pressed into my side, the way I count your heartbeats to keep myself from freaking out cause I’m afraid to wake you. God, I think about how you call me Gojo still despite the fact that we live together cause you’re grossly polite; I just can’t get you out of my head.” His voice trails off at the end as your silence engulfs him in shame, and he can't bear to look you in the eyes anymore. He moves to pull his hand away from you, ready to rot in his room, never escaping his shame again, but instead, you place your much smaller hand over his; your hand is freezing, but his skin feels like it’s on fire. 
“I-I don’t actually fall asleep on movie nights,” you stutter out and he looks at you brows clenched in confusion. “I…I just pretend to sleep so I can get closer to you, a-and that day I stole your shirt? I still had clothes to wear but you left it in my basket and I couldn’t help myself” you mumble out gaze trained on a loose thread in his hoodie. 
He looks at you, blinking in confusion before what you said registers, and a devilish smirk makes its way across his features. 
“You’re a filthy pervert, huh? Sorry, I never would have pegged you for the creepy roommate.” He lets out a hearty laugh as your face goes beat red. 
“Hey, I know about your underwear collection, Satoru, if you play that game.” It's his turn to feel embarrassed as he reaches his uncannily long arms over the edge of the couch, dragging you over the side and settling you to lay on his chest. 
“Say that again sweet girl,” he speaks in a whisper brushing your hair back and staring egregiosuly at your lips. 
“I know about your underwear collection?...Satoru,” You state in a teasing tone, leaning slightly in to his lips. 
He lets out a breathy chuckle before closing the distance and encompassing your lips in a restrained kiss. You let out the smallest whimper, and his grip tightens around your waist as he begins trying to coax your mouth open for him. He presses you against him, relishing in the way you shiver when his warm hand reaches under your shirt, feather-light touches causing you to squeak into his mouth. He wastes no time tracing the edge of your tongue with his slow and deliberate teasing. You reach into his hair, pulling lightly at his hair before pulling your face away from his, looking into his eyes, and pushing the stray hairs back away from his eyes. 
“You’re still grounded; nothing nasty until you sleep, lover boy,” you smile through the words, and Satoru is certain that his heart stopped right then and there. 
“Yeah yeah whatever, going to sleep now,” he says before rolling onto his side, tugging you close to him, burying his nose into your hair, letting his eyes fall closed as his breaths begin to even out, focusing on the way your chest rises and falls against his. For the first time in entirely too long he falls into a deep sleep, clutching tightly to your frame, oh yeah you were in for it when he woke up. 
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sugurufic · 27 days
Text
Student of the Year (Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader)
Summary: Saint Teresa, the planned destination for the rich, and a dream for those who can't afford it. Of course, there's a tension between the rich and the scholarship kids, the rich ones acting so much better than the others. All of that changes, when Suguru Geto, the new scholarship kid joins, blurring the lines between the two cliques. Satoru Gojo, the resident rockstar, the son of the most affluent man, the poster boy of the rich. You, the hottest girl on campus, Satoru’s girlfriend (or are you). Friends, bitches, love and betrayal - a competition to ruin all relationships. 
Content Warning: fluff, fights, focused on SatoSugu, reader is rich and low-key a bitch, fuckboy Satoru, love triangle (stsg and reader) breakups, friendship breakups, typical Bollywood drama, a few swear words, ends on a positive note
Word Count: 21k | masterlist
A/N: For those of you unfamiliar with SOTY i've attached the links to the movie's songs <3 the tall guy is Sugu and shorter one is Satoru's character
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Saint Teresa - the college where dreams come true, or nightmares become real. Saint Teresa is a big name with a big game - having a big division in the trust fund kids and the scholarship kids. There’s the star of the trust fund kids - Satoru Gojo - the son of the biggest tycoon of the country, who is blessed by the gods with a charming face and a gift for music, and wants to be a rockstar. Music is his passion, but he does have a lover - only the prettiest girl of Saint Teresa, the one sought after by everyone who's anyone. She drowns in luxury, dropping brand names like they were some pop stars. The only things she doesn’t lack are beauty and money.
One might think that with the prettiest girl of the school at his side, Satoru wouldn’t even look at other people, but as the first day of the new college term rolls out, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend of four years getting a little to cosy to Tanya, his hand on her waist and her hands on his chest. You see red - the wine in your hand finding a target besides your mouth.
You pat his back, trying to get his attention, but he pushes you off in favour of whispering dirty-nothings to Tanya, the brunette soaking up his attention. The fates are cruel and the other woman notices you first, and Satoru only turns around to see you when Tanya asks him to.
He’s shocked, surprised and begins profusely apologising for not noticing you earlier, while Tanya looks at you with an annoying smirk plastered on her face.
“You know Tanya, wine stains are the hardest to get rid off,” You tell her, feeling positively malicious, directing your anger at her instead of Satoru.
“Thanks for the washing machine tip, I guess?” She responds, her voice snarky.
“You’ll need it,” you say, before throwing the remaining wine onto her white top and stalking away from the both of them.
“Baby, listen!” Satoru calls after you, catching up easily with his long legs. “Baby, I said I’m sorry, why did you have to do that?”
“Listen, Satoru,” You emphasised on his name, an angry crease between your brows. “If you don’t leave your company this term, I will leave you. Fix yourself.”
“Baby, you look so sexy, all jealous and threatening me,” Satoru teases, licking his lips as he looks down at you.
“I’m being serious, Satoru,” You say, not using any endearments for him. “You’ve been at it for too long. Stop testing me.”
A new sports scholarship student joins Saint Teresa for the new term, state level track gold medalist and a martial arts champion - Suguru Geto. He’s from a humble background, not having the flair and pomp of the rich kids, but he has the confidence and the skills to make things work. He drives his simple motorbike to the campus from the dorms, backpack on his shoulder. His long dark hair is tied up in a bun, and a few bangs frame his pretty face. 
(Kukkad)
He parks his bike at an empty spot, when two guys, one blond and the other raven  haired, come up to him. Suguru looks at them, a little confused, but doesn’t say anything regardless.
“Hey bangs guy, don’t you know this parking spot is reserved for the Satoru Gojo?” Ichiji Kiyotaka says. He too is one of the scholarship kids, dressed in simple clothes. His companion, Kento Nanami, seems like a scholarship kid as well with his too-neat hair and simple shirt and jeans. “Go park your bike somewhere else.”
He looks at them, scowling, but doesn’t attempt to move his bike.
Just then, the man in question rolls in with his blue Ferrari, lips turned up in disgust on seeing his usual spot occupied with a cheap bike he can’t even be bothered to know the name of. 
“Kiyotaka, why is the trash here?” His voice is arrogant and full of himself, glaring at Kiyotaka and the bangs guy from behind his opaque sunglasses. “Don’t I pay you to keep my spot empty everyday?”
“This trash is called a motorbike and runs on petrol, you see,” Suguru says, voice laced in calm confidence.
“What did you say was your name again?” Satoru asks, sparkly blue eyes scrutinising him up and down from under his fluffy white hair - right from his bun and bangs to his sneakers, lip curling in disgust.
“I simply never said it,” Suguru simply says, purple eyes fixed on him, a model of confidence.
Satoru’s sidekick, another kid paying full fees, Yu Haibara, chimed in,  “Are you trying to play Crorepati with us? You’ll give options and then we’ll have to choose?”
“I’m called Suguru Geto,” Suguru finally says, the air of confidence never leaving him.
“Suguru,” Satoru tries saying his name, the disinterest in his voice feigns - behind his sunglasses, his blue eyes are trying to find a point of weakness. “Well, Suguru, this is my parking spot, and I’m asking you to take your tractor away.”
Suguru doesn’t respond, going to the blue Ferrari instead, saying, “2005 Ferrari F360 Spider convertible, 400 horsepower with alloy wheels, a great car.”
“What are you man or Google?” Kiyotaka Ichiji comments.
“Maybe he was a mechanic back in his village,” Satoru says, looking down on him.
“A valet at the nightclub,” Suguru says.
“Valet?” Satoru says, giddy on finally finding a weakness. He throws him the keys of the car, which the bangs guy expertly catches and says, “Take the keys and park my car. And here’s some cash, maybe get your tractor cleaned.” He pauses for a moment, then adds. “Keep the change,”
Everyone waits with a baited breath to see the calm, confident bangs guy reaction, Satoru with a cocky smirk on his lips as Suguru calmly gets in the driver side of the car and the engine roars to life. There’s a collective gasp as Suguru takes the 2005 F360 to the muddy ground and runs it around in near perfect doughnuts, turning the baby blue to a muddy brown. There’s a crowd gathered around him, loud gossip travelling in the crowd, half terrified, half annoyed but most of it admiring the man with the bangs.
The white haired man’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest at the rage he’s feeling - no one ever dares to cross him, especially not a scholarship kid who couldn’t even afford to be there. He is seeing red, eyes bloodshot and focused on Suguru, he’ll rip the confidence right out of him with the bangs everyone is seeming to talk about.
Satoru is ready to fight, when Suguru lazily steps out of the blue Ferrari and throws the keys right back to the owner. When Satoru is in closer range, the dark haired man takes the cash that he’d been given and hands it back saying, “Here’s some cash to get your car cleaned.” Suguru steps back and takes a short pause. “And please, keep the change.”
Being insulted like that on the first day of the new term by some scholarship brat was not on Satoru Gojo’s bucket list. He is red with rage, and throws the sunglasses off and pushes his white hair back from his forehead before raising his fists to hit the new guy, but Suguru’s easy defence only eggs him on more. They’re fighting, but Suguru has a bit of the upper hand with his expertise in martial arts. But soon the two are being pulled apart by the crowd while the rest continue recording the fight. To everyone else, it was a brilliant first day of school, and gossip fodder for everyone for the whole term.
They’re both escorted to the Dean, Masamichi Yaga’s office, the old man not very happy to be dealing with silly boy fist fights on the first day of the newest term. He has been in a nice mood this morning after talking with his bonsai plant, but that’s ruined now. He sounds jolly when he begins his questions, “Boys will be boys, bad boys, right?”  His jolly tone deceives Satoru who nods in agreement.
“No, nonsense. This uncivilised behaviour is unexpected from students of St. Teresa,” He scolds them both. “Which one of you started the fight?”
“Sir, he did,” Satoru says, pointing to his left. “He parked in my spot,”
“It was empty when I came,” Suguru counters, annoyed. “It’s not your father’s parking, is it?”
“You know what, it actually is,” Satoru turns to him, nerves getting the best of him. “My father is the biggest trustee of St. Teresa-”
“You must think that your dad pays my salary as well then, Mr. Gojo,” Dean Yaga intervenes in a sassy voice. “You don’t speak like that in my office, Mr. Gojo. Speaking of your father, I’ve invited him as our first guest speaker, so he’ll be here in a day or two. I’ll let him know of your antics then,”
Satoru quickly turns around, white hair flying in all directions as the anger turns into surprise, blue eyes comically widen,“Please don’t, sir.”
“Now shake your hands like gentlemen and don’t repeat this same mistake,” Yaga says, smiling sweetly. He was an eccentric man - kinder and gentler to his plants than to most of his faculty and students. The two men reluctantly shake their hands and share a plastic smile, if only to get out of the Dean’s office.
- - - - - -
“Satoru, you were acting so recklessly,” you say, applying an ointment to the bruise on his cheekbone. The brunette Tanya, not discouraged by your wine attack, was sitting right beside your boyfriend, worrying herself. Shoko, your best friend, rolls her eyes, not very fond of Tanya or Satoru.
“Who does this new guy think he is, not respecting you?” Tanya says instead, feeding into his bloated ego. “It’s good that you taught him a lesson,”
Yu agrees, always the loyal sidekick. “That’s right, Satoru, he had no right to steal your parking spot then humiliate you like that. Bloody scholarship brat.”
- - - - -
“Suguru, you’ve earnt us scholarship kids respect,” Nanami, the blond man of a few words says. “The way you handled Satoru, I salute you on behalf of all of us.”
Suguru raises his eyebrow to acknowledge his classmate, but continues going forward, excited to hear Isamu Gojo talk about his success in becoming a raging business tycoon in the country while coming from nothing.
“Where are you going?” Kento asks. “You can’t go to the front, that’s for the trust fund kids. Come here, sit with your bank account.”
“I’ll sit where I want,” Suguru says with that calm confidence typical of him. He sits down right next to Shoko, who sat with her friends - Satoru and his group of the one-percenter kids. All of your eyes flit to him, but he seemingly doesn’t care - or if he does, he is doing a great job not showing it.
You take note of his bangs, and his hair in bun - you’re half jealous of his hair and partly angry at his treatment of your boyfriend, but you also admire his confidence. Turning back to Satoru, you see him staring at bangs guy, eyes full of spite - it seems even worse than your spite towards that bitch Tanya. “Satoru, don’t,” you quietly whisper to him, putting your hand on his. He only gives an annoyed glance, which hurts you more than it should have.
“Good morning boys and girls, I am very delighted to have our first session with a guest speaker, one of the leading business tycoons of the country - Isamu Gojo!” Dean Yaga says, and the whole crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Satoru is quick to plug his ears with his earbuds, loud music already blaring through. “We’re glad that you could join us today, Mr. Gojo.”
“I hope you are having a wonderful term so far, ladies and gentlemen,” Isamu Gojo says. He too is a big, tall man with white hair and light eyes, the resemblance with his son almost uncanny. “I would like to correct you, Masamichi, I’m the leading business tycoon of the country,” he then proceeds to laugh at his own joke, enjoying the way the Dean and the teacher’s smile drops. “See, I’m not one for guiding you to bookish studies, your teachers are enough for that. Your teachers teach you the rules of the world, but keep one thing in mind: it's the winners who make those rules. So keep up your winning spirit and dedication, and play the game to win - not to learn the rules.”
He beams with pride as the crowd roars in applause, as if he just hadn’t insulted the whole faculty body of the school. Satoru too joins the applause, even though he hadn’t heard a word - he didn’t need to, hearing the condescending words all the time back at home. Somehow, he’s even more spiteful of his own father than he is of the bangs guy.
- - - - -
“Suguru Geto,” The coach says, noticing Suguru after classes a couple of days later. Everyone knows Suguru by now - his fight with Satoru Gojo, then his calm confidence in classes, with his pretty face and unique hair is the talk of all cliques. “State Level Track gold-medalist and martial arts expert… Have you ever played football?”
“I have, sir,” Suguru says, smiling politely. 
“Why don’t you come for the tryouts tomorrow?” Coach says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“I’ll be there, sir.” Suguru promises.
Unsurprisingly, Satoru and his loyal sidekick Haibara are a part of the football team. Kiyotaka is acting as the coach’s assistant - keeping things in order for him. Satoru Gojo’s clique tries so hard to ruin Suguru’s tryouts for the team, attempting to trip him, tackle him, but his graceful movements and power packed kicks are more than enough to defend and dodge himself, all the while managing to score a perfect goal. Satoru’s usually pretty face is creased with frowns and scowls, mood sour at Suguru making it into his team. He’ll be sure to rub the bangs guy in the mud once he is appointed captain, determined to show the coach that the village brat is a bastard.
“Haibara, bring me the keys to the notice board,” Satoru says, a devious plan already forming in his head.
“What are you gonna do with that boss?” Haibara asks.
“Just bring me the keys, Haibara.” Satoru says, annoyed.
- - - - -
Two mornings later, Haibara comes to Satoru with the news that the coach was not happy with Suguru and had ordered him to jog 200 laps of the school ground - which Suguru accepted without a voice of protest. Satoru feels awful for what he’s done - delivering piss to the coach’s house and labelling it as Ganga Jal (our equivalent to holy water) signed under Suguru’s name. He watches as Suguru sends Ichiji off - who was supposed to watch his laps, but continues jogging around the perimeter of the massive St. Teresa ground.
Seeing bangs accept the punishment he deserves changes something in him, it gives him a moment of introspection, of why he was villainising the new guy so much. Sure, bangs had parked in his spot, but the spot was empty when he came. He got selected in the team, but because he was actually good at the game. He was becoming the teachers’ favourite, but that was because he was polite and performed well with just enough confidence. The girls that usually fawned over Satoru and his guitar and his music, were now fawning over Suguru’s voice and bangs, never missing the chance to admire him - but Satoru shouldn’t care - he already has the prettiest girl on campus - you.
After class, the aspiring rockstar swallows the bitter pill and calls after Suguru, “Hey! Hey!” Suguru doesn’t listen, is too engrossed in his book and continues walking. Satoru’s long legs pick up speed, and he’s power walking to catch up. “Oh hello, I’m talking to you, bangs!”
“My name is Suguru, you know?” Suguru says with an annoyed sigh.
“Yeah, yeah, Suguru,” Satoru dismisses, continuing to walk beside Suguru, who bookmarks his spot in the book before turning to him. “I came here to say thanks for yesterday morning. You didn’t have to save us, you know. I could’ve handled the coach pretty easily.”
“I know, I didn’t want to do it at all either,” Suguru says, his voice level.
“Then why did you do it?” Satoru says, his cool-kid facade falling a bit.
“I was trying to act like Mahatma,” Suguru says, upturning the book he was reading. It was a biography of Mahatma Gandhi. “I wanted to know what Gandhi felt like being so idealistic.”
“You’ve got some loose screws, man,” Satoru incredulously says, motioning the loose screws with his large hands.
“I may have some loose screws, but you don’t have any.” Suguru deadpans.
“Very funny,” the white haired man scoffs. “You did listen to my dad, I suppose that is bound to make some impact on you.”
“You know, your dad isn’t crazy, he’s a little crooked,” Suguru says. “Which is a good thing, no one reaches that level of money without being at least a little crooked.”
“Show some respect to Gandhi in your hands, man,” Satoru teases, taking the book from him. “The gods made a silly mistake, you should’ve been my father’s son.”
“Why do you care so much about your father?” Suguru says, taking back the Gandhi biography from him, his thin dark eyebrow raised.
“I don’t care for my father or my mother,”
“You do, you’re seeking validation from them.” Suguru observes. “But it seems like all you get from them is money.”
“Wow, and now you’re an expert in parents’ philosophy, right?” Satoru dodges the accusation that hit just a bit too close.
Suguru looks away, the confident demeanour shaking as he says in a small voice, “I am, now that they’re gone.”
“What do you mean gone, are they on a vacation?” Satoru asks, genuinely confused.
“They’re dead,” Suguru says with an accepting sigh. Satoru stops in his tracks, wanting the earth to swallow him whole in that moment - how could he be so stupid and insensitive? “Quit the dramatics, man, yours are alive.”
“You fucker,” Satoru says, a chuckle escaping him. “You motherfucker,” Suguru smirks, accepting the insincere swearing. Satoru’s blue eyes gleam with laughter and he pats his new friend’s chest and says, “Let’s go to the cafeteria. It’s time for me to meet my girlfriend,”
- - - - - - - 
You’re on your way to the cafeteria, enjoying your conversation with Shoko about the newest phone on the market when your good mood is soured by Tanya strutting in your direction, her hefty handbag seemingly weighing her down. Her friends follow her, but you don’t pay attention to them as Tanya comes to a stop in front of you, her head tilted up to look at you and a qualifier smile on her face.
“Have you heard who became the head cheerleader for this term?” Tanya teases, her annoying smirk never leaving her face. “It's Tanya Israni,” She eggs you on, frustrated by the calm smile on your face. “You must be so upset, because this position is only given to the most popular girl of the school,” 
“I’m so happy for you Tanya,” You cooly say, stepping a little closer to her. “Good for you honestly,” You cheer her on, enjoying the confused look on her face. Shoko snickers behind you, fighting the laughter from her face. “You know, it’s really not my style to take pom-poms in my hands and scream and dance to catch men’s attention. I much prefer it if they notice me and try to catch my attention, you know. So, I’m so happy you got to be the head cheerleader.”
You pat her shoulders and walk away, Shoko hot on your heels. 
At the cafeteria, you’re met with Satoru, your pretty boyfriend, who whips out his guitar and sings a song in your praise, and you eat it all up. It’s been quite a while since you’ve got his attention to himself - with bangs taking up most of his time and energy. You bask in the attention he gives you, eyes not missing bangs and the way his mysterious eyes linger on you as if trying to decipher you.
“All the attention on me suddenly?” You ask Satoru, taunting his last few months of hoeing around. “Are you sick? Or did you finally fix yourself?”
“I’m getting back on track,” He jokes, putting his arms around you.
“Or maybe you just want the world to know that she is still dating you,” Shoko teases. She isn’t a fan of Satoru, but she especially hates him now that he’s started taking you for granted.
“There she is, my competition,” Satoru gently punches Shoko’s shoulder, laughing. “Shoko, did you miss me?”
“In your dreams, Satoru,” Shoko shrugs his hand off, taking a whiff of her cigarette. “Besides, your competition is right here. Suguru, right?”
Suguru nods in acknowledgement as Satoru easily orders Yu around.“Haibara, go get chairs for the girls,” 
“Ah, so you’re Suguru,” You say, raising your brow, scrutinising him.
“You’re saying as if you never noticed me,” He deadpans.
“I only saw you, noticing is totally different,” You say, pushing your hair out of your face. “Anyways, I’ve got to run to class now, Satoru. I’ll see you later.” You kiss his cheek and wave at Suguru then grab Shoko and rush to class. Suguru’s dark eyes follow your figure as you leave, trying to see under your rudeness.
“Don’t even think about it, Suguru,” Satoru warns. “That’s my girlfriend.”
“Well, good for you that she’s not my type then,” Suguru says, turning to his friend. “Besides, I have different plans.”
“I don’t care about your plans,” Satoru says, practically radiating with excitement. “I’m just happy that there’s finally someone who can match me.” He then shakes his head and leaves, fixing his glasses on the way out. Haibara returns with the chair, giving an odd look to Suguru, who rolls his eyes and walks away. 
- - - - - - - 
Friendships, breakups, jealousy, parties - all of it was a common occurrence at St. Teresa. But every other weekend, everyone got a reality check - when they went back to their homes.
At the Gojos back in Delhi, Isamu and Akihiko, Satoru’s older brother, were discussing the stock market and the impact of the changing polls on their organisation over dinner, disregarding himself and his mother. Satoru still tries to bond with them, trying to put forth some of his opinions, “Dad, I think-”
“You think?” Isamu taunts. “Since when did that happen?”
“Satoru, leave the thinking to us intellectuals,” Akihiko says. “You focus on your music, that’s what you have talent for, no? I’ll need your help finalising the music for the sangeet function at my wedding, you know. You can think about that. Leave the thinking about the stock market to us.”
Meanwhile at your residence - your mom and her latest husband discuss the gossip of people you couldn’t care less about. How that couple treated your mother, how the woman blatantly ignored her kind words of advice, how she had a horrible taste for the interior of her house - the same old, same old.
“I’m pregnant,” You abruptly say, trying to steer the conversation to some other direction.
“What did you say young lady-” Your mother starts, and your newest step father looks nearly as aghast as you mother.
“I’m kidding,” you say, rolling your eyes with a defeated sigh. “Please continue,”
Back in Dehradun, Suguru sits for dinner with his family - his Chacha, Chachi, cousins and Dadi, mustering up the courage to finally ask for some pocket money for a chemistry project.
“Suguru, everything alright in school?” His uncle asks.
“Yeah, Chachu, everything’s great.” He bites his lip then finally says, “Chachu, actually I needed some money for a chemistry project-”
“Right,” His Chachi intervenes. “Of course, Mr. Ambani, could you please give him some money from your endless bank account?”
His Dadi beats his Chacha to it, saying, “I’ll give you the money,” then she adds. “There’s a little less salt in the food, but okay I’ll manage.”
- - - - - - - -
With Monday, everything is back to normal. There’s a change in the daily life in Saint Teresa now that Satoru and Suguru have become friends, their friendship quickly becoming one of the best the college has ever seen. 
The football team is practising for the yearly match with Saint Lawrence, a match that has been won by their competitors for an unbeatable record of 24 years. Dean Yaga hopes that this will change with this batch, the wonderful players he has got and even more wonderful Coach of theirs.
Coach is in a serious dilemma watching the team practice. Both Satoru and Suguru are brilliant players and would make great captains - but the custom is to have only one captain in the team. Making one captain in favour of another isn’t something he is considering, too much has already happened between the two before they started behaving civilly. 
“Yu Haibara!” Coach calls. “You’re the football team captain for this term.”
Haibara, standing between Suguru and Satoru, is startled at first, then he celebrates with delight. The two friends on either side of him share a smile, accepting their unassigned-assigned co-captaincy of the team.
On the day of the much awaited match, you, Shoko, and Kento take your spot in the bleachers, while Tanya and her cheer squad stand right by the field. Your boys in blue and your opponents in red - the two teams come out of the stands and shake hands before taking positions for the game.
It’s a mess right when it starts - the boys in blue are too defensive, but they are too focused on not letting them score, where they miss the chances to snatch the ball away from them which ultimately led to a goal. Twice before halftime. Standing at an embarrassing 2-0, your side sulks and accepts defeat, ready to lose to Saint Lawrence for the 25th time in a row.
But after the half time, your boys in blue have gone from defensive to offensive, never letting the ball pass to the opposing team in red - keeping the ball to themselves. For a moment the ball goes to the red team, but Satoru is deft to act and snatches the ball away from them with a couple of his antics, not violating any rule of the game. He scores the first goal of the match for the blue team. From the humiliating 2-0 the score was now up to a less embarrassing 2-1. Your side erupted in cheers, and you were perhaps the loudest.
The next goal is just as swift, but this time it's Suguru running with the ball, easily distracting their goalie and scoring a goal. The game is now at a tie of 2-2.
The next time, Yu manages to snag the ball from the red players and then passes the ball to Suguru who keeps two of the red defenders occupied while he pretends to go for the goal and kicks the ball to Satoru whose deft attacks give Saint Teresa the final goal of the match - and the first victory after 25 years. 
The team and the bleachers erupt in cheers, and the new friends and teammates share a hug. They’re jumping on the field, looking at each other with newfound respect and admiration. Suguru’s dark bangs stick to his forehead and Satoru’s white hair drips sweat down to the grass, which he is quick to wipe with the front of his jersey. The girls nearly lose their minds, but his attention is elsewhere.
“Don't kiss me now,” Suguru teases Satoru, yelling over the crowd.
“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru says as he envelopes Suguru in a bear hug, both of them feeling the sheer joy of winning and making their college proud.
Satoru takes Suguru back home to Delhi after their match to celebrate - the lavish mansion with servants at every beck and call leaving a scanning Suguru further steeling his resolve for his success, the only thing he joined Saint Teresa for. Satoru introduces Suguru to his mother, who seems like a meek, kind woman. Suguru holds his hands together in a namaste before her.
“Your father was asking for you, Satoru,” His mother says, wrapping her saree over her free arm.
“Why, is he unwell?” Satoru sarcastically asks, but follows his mother nonetheless, dragging Suguru along.
“Dad this is S-”
“Suguru Geto, I know,” Isamu Gojo shakes his hand as soon as he hangs up the call. “I’ve heard a lot about you, son. You are a popular name among teachers. I hope your determination rubs off on him too.” The way Isamu talks about his own son, his flesh and blood makes Suguru uncomfortable, but as usual he maintains his air of calm confidence.
“Uncle, but today’s victory is all thanks to Satoru, you know.” Suguru says. “If he hadn’t made the goal -”
“Oh really, I didn’t know you were capable of anything outside of playing that damned guitar.” the older white haired man taunts. Satoru grits his teeth, eyes narrowing behind his round sunglasses.
“He doesn’t appreciate it,” Satoru says, voice bitter. “Especially if it’s me,”
“If you want to hear compliments so bad, do something that matters,” Isamu challenges. “Win that Student Of the Year trophy, then we’ll talk.”
“What's the point in winning the trophy, you won't be happy then either,” Satoru says.
“It’s not about me being happy, it’s about ambition,” Isamu says, turning to Suguru, more welcoming of him than his own son. “You tell me, Suguru, would you win the Student of the Year trophy?”
“That trophy is mine sir,” Suguru says with his signature confidence, his voice smooth and even. “Now we just have to wait for it to get home,”
“That’s the spirit,” Isamu says, patting the dark-haired man’s shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that. Maybe some of your influence will rub off on Satoru with time. Now tell me, where do you see yourself in the future?”
“As you,” Suguru says, then seeing the creased brow, he elaborates on their similarities - small town kids growing up with low money, then taking the market by a storm with sheer force of will and strategic decisions. “Maybe even a bigger business tycoon than you.”
“Now this is ambition,” Isamu says, beaming with pride. “I love your confidence, my son. Maybe not everyone wants to play a guitar now.”
“Let’s go Suguru,” He says, eager to leave his golden cage.
(Vele)
Delhi’s buzzing nightlife is where Satoru takes him for their celebration. Even though it’s just the two of them, Suguru feels strange seeing his friend interact with everyone. Of course, he was familiar with the nightlife, but he’s always been there to work, never to enjoy. Satoru with his fluffy white hair and bright blue eyes and charming words is popular among the crowd - both the men and the women. It takes him some time - a couple days - to loosen up and feel the music.
Satoru is pressing up behind a giggly woman, his signature smirk on his lips and his glasses down just enough to tease the pretty colour of his eyes. He easily moves with her, going beyond just casually dancing with her. Suguru is entertaining a girl as well, but he’s not much into it - he isn’t fond of meaningless connections.
In the morning, they get a smoke - Satoru is so different from his night self - zoned out and blue eyes droopy with a longing. “Suguru… do you miss your parents?” he suddenly asks.
Suguru takes a moment to process the question, flashes of his happier times passing in his head. “Hmm, I do,” He says, nodding.
“Me too,” Satoru says, eyes focused on something and nothing at the same time.
Come the night, Satoru is back to his womaniser self - this time having two women splayed over him rather than just one. Suguru’s mind suddenly flashes your pretty face, and he wonders if you’d approve of his behaviour. He’s disgusted by Satoru’s behaviour, how he’s an attentionwhore but is not letting you go either. He might be too poor to understand your setup, he thinks.
The next night, they’re back on campus and the whole school is celebrating at the nearest club - Satoru is again getting cosy with Tanya, not even noticing you. You’re outraged and want to cause a scene, but you don’t. You don’t know what’s gotten into him in the past year, why he’s been going out and letting women get so close to him. Why did he need this much attention? Why couldn’t you leave him? You go to the bar, and to your surprise, Bangs is the one to notice your sulking self and he gets you shot. The two of you down the bitter drink, and he flashes his. And for some reason, you find yourself smiling even when he’s gone.
The next weekend, Suguru and Satoru are back in Delhi, smoking at their usual spot when Suguru finally asks him, “Do you love her?”
“I’m a little confused,” Satoru admits, looking down.
“About her?” Suguru asks, brow creased.
“About love,” Satoru admits, looking down at his phone.
“Are you gay?” Suguru asks incredulously.
Satoru chuckles, pulling Suguru close with his shirt. “Yeah, I am come here,”
“Oi, shut up!” Suguru smacks him away, laughing.
By the night, Satoru is too drunk, and Suguru drives the blue Ferrari back to the lavish Gojo house, picks up his drunk friend and drops him on his bed. Satoru mumbles at him to stay the night. Suguru too is exhausted, and he’s out like a lightbulb almost as soon as he drops to the bed. In the morning, the loud blaring of an electric guitar in an unfamiliar but upbeat tune wakes him up. Suguru goes to the balcony and sees the Gojo family, minus Satoru having breakfast and decides to join them.
“Good morning Uncle, Good morning Aunty,” Suguru greets them. “We got late last night so Satoru asked me to stay,”
“That’s alright my son, come sit with us.” Isamu says, motioning to the empty chair. “You’re listening to what we have to put up with every morning? Our little maestro is practising,”
“I was thinking I'd ask him for music recommendations for my sangeet but listening to this, I was terribly wrong.” Akihiko says. “It’s just noise.”
“Yeah, son, Akihiko is getting married, you should join us.” Isamu says. “Yu, Yaga, Coach, Tanya and the girl who is too good for Satoru, they're all coming.”
“Satoru didn’t say anything about-” Suguru reluctantly says.
“Yeah, he isn’t invited yet,” Isamu and his oldest laugh at his joke. “No need to worry about tickets and stay, we’ll go via our jet and there’s accommodation for everyone, my son.”
“Thank you, sir.” Suguru says, his smile reserved. He cannot fathom why Isamu antagonises his own flesh and blood this much. Satoru arrives as Isamu and Akihiko leave, and they don’t leave without a taunt. “Mr. Gojo just invited me to your brother’s wedding,” Suguru says, taking a sip of the orange juice as Satoru sits down next to him.
“Wow, maybe he’ll write your name in his will too,” Satoru says, rolling his eyes.
“That’s the plan,” Suguru teases.
“Remember, the dad comes with the property,” Satoru warns, mocking his father.
“With a bank balance like that I’ll handle everyone,” Suguru jokes, and Satoru just shakes his head, unaware of his own privilege.
- - - - - - 
The wedding party lands in Thailand with much pomp - the first day they only relax and enjoy Thailand. Your mood is sour again - Satoru spent the whole flight flirting with Tanya and enjoying her advances, letting her touch him in ways that only you should be able to. On top of that Shoko wasn’t there, and now you had to spend the entire weekend with this.
When you land, Tanya starts enquiring about the luggage, to which you say, “Didn’t all of your clothes fit in your handbag?” and Satoru has the nerve to get mad at you - telling you that you should mind your tongue.
“Welcome to Thailand,” Bangs says, when he crosses you.
Later, you go to the resort’s beach, hoping to finally get some time with Satoru - only to see him lying on Tanya’s lap as she smothers his chest in sunscreen. Your sour mood turns bitter, and you go back to your room, eyes threatening to spill. But you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Was it so easy for him to let loose after four years of being your boyfriend? Was he no longer attracted to you? You ponder with the thought of leaving him, but you don’t want to give him up - you love him, you think, and you don’t want your four years to go to waste.
Unbeknownst to you, bangs was feeling similar towards Satoru’s dismissal of you - seriously questioning his friend as to why he was even looking at other girls with you by his side. If it were up to Suguru and he had a girlfriend as amazing and pretty as you, he wouldn’t even look at other women.
The next morning, you see Satoru with Tanya - whose shrill voice is just a pitch lower than a moan. She’s massaging his back and letting out sounds which can only be described as ones of pleasure. You know about pleasure, of course - but you don’t sound that obnoxious.
“Should I massage your neck, while she massages your back?” You ask Satoru, voice sickly sweet. He takes off his glasses, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and pushes his fluffy hair away from his face before acknowledging you. Tanya’s hands get more lecherous, a smirk on her face as her dark eyes meet yours.
“What do you mean?” Satoru asks, sounding almost mad at you.
You don’t back down, saying, “I thought you were too fond of massages,” motioning to the way he was sitting in front of Tanya.
“I’m only helping Satoru release his tension, he’s always so stressed.” Tanya says, her voice artificially shrill and concerned. “See, his back has so many knots.”
“Why don’t you open a massage stall then? Everyone in Bangkok would come to you to release their stress.” You snap at her, the dam breaking.
“That’s enough! Why are you acting so insecure?” Satoru has the audacity to get mad at you, looking down at you with such annoyance that you actually start thinking that you’ve done something wrong. “I’m only chilling with my friends, no? What’s so wrong with that?”
The damn holding your tears back breaks, “There’s nothing wrong, absolutely nothing,” your voice breaks and you rush away, tears spilling.
You stand by an isolated spot, away from everyone’s eyes, letting your tears flow freely. Why is everything going wrong between you and Satoru? Did he not love you anymore? Did he ever love you? You can hear Shoko’s voice, telling you to leave him, that you deserve someone so much better than him. If he does all of that in front of you, what’s to say what he does behind your back? She had said.
Suddenly, Bangs is standing beside you, and you’re quick to wipe away your tears. You don’t want to see Satoru’s sidekick come and lecture you - you’ve had enough of that from Haibara, and you don’t want to hear the same thing from bangs. “So typical of Satoru,” You say, voice nasal from all the crying. “He can’t come face me himself, so he sends his sidekick to wipe my tears.”
“Firstly, I’m no one’s sidekick,” Bangs says, handing you a white handkerchief. It has a small back embroidery of his initials. “Secondly, I’m not here to wipe your tears, you’ve got a runny nose.” You take the white muslin cloth and quickly wipe your nose. “You’re the classy type, it doesn’t suit you.” For a moment you think that he’s talking about Satoru, but you’re quick to dismiss the thought. “Now that I’m here, do you want to tell me what’s happening or sing a lovely song for me?”
You don't look at him, focusing your teary gaze on a random spot in the distance. “I’m so fed up with Satoru,” You hate the way your voice sounds nasal, giving away just how much everything was affecting you. You felt weak and exposed, but for some reason you felt you wouldn’t get judgement from Bangs. “I’ve known him for 10 years, been dating him for 4, and from the past year it feels like all of this is a big mistake.”
“Then why not leave him?” Bangs gently suggests, but it sounds more like a genuine question and not a statement.
“I don’t like breaking relationships,” You admit.
“Then do something to get him on the right path,” He says, and you finally look at him, noticing him for the first time.
“How so?” You ask, brow raised.
“Maybe take a wrong path yourself,” He shrugs, the sun hits his shades and bangs perfectly, and you can see the violet of his eyes from this close under the sun. You cross your arms over your chest, a devious plan forming in your head with Suguru’s pretty face in your mind.
(Radha)
In the evening, you decide to take the stage and perform to the song, having coordinated with the music set up and the bride and groom. Akihiko was way too excited to see his brother get put in his place, agreeing to your idea immediately. Everything is a deliberate plan - from your pink blouse to your lehenga skirt and the way it hugs your figure in the most flattering of ways you feel and look hot.
Satoru and Tanya stand in the audience as the music starts to play, stopping the hushed whispers exchanging. Her back is still pressed against his chest, enjoying the warmth he offers. For a change, Satoru has ditched his glasses and is adorning a fancy golden kurta, the colour flattering his pale complexion and white hair. Tanya too is dressed in a sexy golden saree - and they look too much like a couple for your taste. That makes your resolve all the more strong.
Satoru watches with a crease between his white brows seeing a familiar figure on the stage, but her face is veiled by the dupatta, the lighting just dim enough to make the face of the girl a mystery. The music starts to play and when the dupatta veil falls after a few steps to reveal your pretty face - Satoru is stunned. You’re too sexy, all for him to admire. He covers his face, part astonished, part embarrassed. Tanya grits her teeth, but smiles along when Satoru tells her how pretty you look. Suguru on the other hand, dressed in a lovely navy kurta that compliments his dark hair and pretty eyes, raises his hands and cheers you on.
Much to Satoru’s surprise while dancing to the music, instead of coming to him in the crowd, you go to Suguru. An indescribable feeling climbs up his throat at the sight of you dancing and enjoying with his best friend - your steps complimenting each other so well. Tanya tries to distract him, and for a while he is distracted. Until he sees you again - you’re coming toward him so he pushes Tanya out of your way - but you only push him in a mix of playfulness and annoyance and return to Suguru. 
Satoru, being the rockstar that he is, easily catches the beat of the music and is able to keep up with your practised steps, trying to get closer to you.
For a moment, the three of you are dancing together, but you lean more toward your boyfriend’s best friend - disregarding him as he has been disregarding you. Somewhere with the music, your Dean Yaga takes up the Dafli and surprises everyone with how well he plays the instrument. You, Satoru and Suguru join him on the stage, and Yaga turns into a blushing mess with all the compliments. 
Suguru is surprised to have you dancing this close to him, even with your dance performance over and the DJ being open for everyone. He pushes you away when you get a bit too close, for perfume all up in his nose and your pretty, decorated eyes looking up at him with such affection. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back a little when you get too close again - worried about all the eyes on him and you - he doesn’t want to cause a scene. He can feel Satoru’s burning gaze on the two of you and he does not like that.
When you get too close a couple more times, he’s finally had enough and grabs your arm to take you away from the crowd, brows creased and a scowl on his face. Suguru doesn’t like this spark that ignites inside him with your pretty face and sweet voice and lovely outfit. He shouldn’t feel this way about you - you’re his best friend’s girlfriend, after all.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His yell isn’t loud, but his voice is scolding.
But the playfulness doesn’t leave your eyes, and you look at him as if he should be in on some secret that he isn’t in on. “You only said to take the wrong path,” you say, a teasing smile on your lips, enjoying the frustrated expression on his usually stoic confident face. “What’s a better wrong path than you?”
“Don’t be stupid, girl,” He scoffs. “Satoru is my best friend,”
“That’s why you’re perfect.” You explain, and your pretty eyes are such a tease, Suguru thinks. “You’re helping your friend by saving his relationship, and I know you won’t try to take advantage of me. Maybe we’ll also become friends by this. It’s not a bad thing, you see. Right?” You put your hands on his crossed arms, your bangles clinking as you try to shake him into agreement
His purple eyes gaze at you for a long moment, and you pretend to fix your bangles, feeling flustered under his steady gaze. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if he refused your offer.
“You’re not as stupid as you seem,” Suguru has a rare, genuine smile on his face, calm, steady voice returning. “So… What’s the plan?”
You look up at him with a child-like smirk, twirling your dupatta between your fingers. “Now we’re talking,” you say, then you drag him away.
Unbeknownst to you, Satoru’s eyes have been following the two of you and he didn’t know he was capable of feeling such jealousy - until he saw you with Suguru - perhaps the only man who can compare to him. He cannot hear the words you exchanged, but the ways you looked at each other spoke louder to him than any words ever could. Have you ever looked at him like that? Like the way you teasingly looked up at Suguru, batting your pretty eyes at him?
The next morning, Satoru is lying in the sun on the beach, with Tanya sitting behind him, lotion in her hand. He sat up straight on seeing you, eyes peeled and sunglasses off - you’re so hot in a yellow and honey coloured bikini - hair wet from the time you had spent in the water. The sun makes your skin glow like the goddess that you are, trying not to laugh at the way your boyfriend’s jaw has dropped, the girl sitting behind him long forgotten. Satoru half raises his hands, wanting you to sit with him. It’s comical the way both their heads turn when you go past him to Suguru, who was casually laying in the sun, shades on his eyes and reading a business magazine.
“May I sit here?” You ask the pretty guy with the bangs, voice deliberately sultry.
“Yeah, sure,” He says, putting down the magazine and sitting up to make space for you behind him. Satoru and Tanya have extremely confused expressions plastered on their faces, and Satoru looks like a kicked puppy his blue eyes narrowed and lips pouty that you almost let up the act. Almost.
You sit behind him, sure to make your curves stand out just a bit more, fixing your hair to one side. You let out a small gasp, touching Suguru’s toned shoulders over his shirt. “Oh dear, you seem so stressed,” you say in the same sultry voice. “May I help in releasing all this tension of yours?”
“Please,” Suguru says with a sigh, head turned away from Satoru but towards you. You try to ignore the way his voice affects you. But can’t really blame yourself - his already nice voice is now deliberately sinful. You pull his open shirt off his shoulders, admiring his back. You don’t need to pretend to fawn over him, a realisation that disturbs you more than it should.
Taking some lotion in your hand, you begin massaging his back, both of you playing the part well of making noises that sound much like sounds of pleasure - it’s funny the way Satoru suddenly straightens up and Tanya tries to mimic you, trying to get Satoru to make noises similar to the one Suguru was making. The man in front of you sounds incredibly sexy, even if it was just pretend. Your brain begins a thought - if this is how good he sounds when pretending, how much nicer he’d sound with the real - but you stub it before the thought completes.
When Satoru doesn’t make any noises, too focused on the way you’re touching his best friend - the pretty hands that should be touching him instead - Tanya asks him to make some noise, in order to assert some sense of dominance. Satoru lets out a funny noise of complaint, throws his sunglasses in the sand and stalks away.
The two of you giggle and share a high-five, watching the squirming Satoru rush away from you. Your plan was working perfectly.
Later in the evening, you enjoy a stroll on the beach with Suguru, his silky hair down for a change, the wind making it flow in a graceful dance. You’ve never wanted to touch someone's hair this bad ever before, so you reach out and do - his hair is softer than any fabric you’ve ever touched. Suguru gives you a small smile.
He’s mesmerised by the way your eyes soften, the moonlight making you glow. He’s unaware of everything except you, of how your eyes are looking at him kindly, of how you mentioned having a rough relationship with your mother and never knowing your father, of telling you about the time his parent’s car had crashed, taking them away from him.
“He’s gone,” you whisper, and he’s pulled out the trance your eyes had put him in. “You’re such a nice actor Suguru,” you say, a cheery smile returning to your face. “Let’s go back in now before it gets too dark.”
The next morning, Suguru sips his champagne and watches you with a heavy heart, you look so pretty in your white and gold lehenga, dancing to the music with the mehendi drying on your hands. He’s admiring you from afar - seeing as you spot Satoru and make a sour face at him, then turning around to see him with a bright smile on your face. You mouth to him if she looks okay, and he mouths back that you look fantastic, doing the okay gesture with his fingers and grinning. You’ve accidentally matched - the yellows and oranges of your lehenga matching his kurta. Your focus is diverted back to the music, and your dance is graceful.
“Oi, why are you acting like Romeo all of a sudden?” Satoru says, rolling the sleeves of his light blue kurta, seemingly squaring up. “I’ve been seeing this for two days now. What happened to her not being your type?”
“Well, she is now,” Suguru says, taking a sip from his glass.
“Stay away from her,” Satoru says, brow creased and lips pressed in distaste. 
“And why would I do that?” Suguru challenges, raising a brow.
“She’s my girlfriend-” the white haired man says, blue eyes wide with rage.
“Since when?” Suguru asks, steadily holding his gaze.
“Don’t play with me Suguru,” Satoru says, ready to snap. “I’m being serious,”
“You? Serious?” Suguru notes. “Satoru, your whole problem is that you aren’t serious. You don’t have the time to be serious.”
“What-” Satoru stammers.
“Meaning that - when was the last time you held her hand? Hugged her? Looked into her eyes and spoke to her? Told her that you love her?” Suguru fires the questions straight at his best friend.
“Who even -” Satoru gets defensive all of a sudden.
“Stop acting like a cool dude.” Suguru asserts. Then, with a smirk on his face, he teases, “Seeing her with me made you jealous, right? You were scared, right?” Satoru can only nod, hiding his eyes with his fluffy hair.
“Good, because that was our scheme to bring you back to the right track.” Suguru finally confesses, seeing his disheartened best friend.
“What do you mean scheme,” He began. “You and -”
“Yeah,” Suguru nods. “You aren’t going to find a girl like her, man. I mean just look at her, she is beautiful.” His voice turns softer, serene, “The way she laughs, the way she dramatises things, names fashion designers on little things. She has the brains, the anger, but she has the right too. She lacks love and affection, she wants love. She isn’t too clever, maybe that is why she is in love with you.”
Satoru is truly stupefied by his friend’s assessment of you. “You’re so sweet, Suguru,” he teases, playfulness back in his crystal blue eyes. “You did a PhD on her just to put some sense into me.”
Suguru puts his hands on his friend’s shoulders, encouraging him, “Okay, now go and be nice to her. If you let her go, I’ll catch her.”
Satoru elbows him, saying, “If you do that, I’ll kill you.” He steps away, but a thought bothers him, “Are you sure you dont like her?”
“Her?” Suguru teases. “It’s you-”
Satoru smacks his shoulder, but then pulls him into a hug. He’s so grateful to have a friend like Suguru, how he showed him what he was doing wrong.
The sound of your name from Satoru’s smart mouth has you turning around, and he takes that opportunity to finally wrap his arms around you, muttering, “I’m really sorry baby,”
“Shhh,” you hush him. “It’s said that hiding your boyfriend’s name in your mehendi, if he finds it then it may be a love to last different lifetimes,”
He takes your hand, his blue eyes full of adoration, “Shall I try?”
“Yes,” You snarkily say, taking Tanya’s hand and handing it to him.
And finally he ignores her in favour of you, muttering your name like an apology. You’re not yet done testing him, so you wipe the wet mehendi on his face, smearing his porcelain skin a dark muddy colour.
In the evening, during the wedding ceremony, as the bride enters with her brothers and uncles, you rush - the stubborn jhumki not locking properly. You hastily motion for two more minutes to the other bridesmaids, running and trying to put the jhumki on your right ear at the same time. Fortunately you see Suguru, and show him the state of your jhumki, unable to keep the smile off your face. He thinks you’re adorable like this, annoyed at a stubborn piece of jewellery.
Suguru takes the jhumki from your hand, instead styling your hair in a manner to keep the missing earring hidden. His purple eyes are so expressive in their appreciation of your yellow-gold outfit and makeup - it makes you feel so beautiful. His large hands are gentle on your hair and it comes as no surprise that he was so good at styling your hair. 
You join the bridal party quickly, spotting Satoru, who makes a gesture of heat on seeing you, you return his gesture - but with a throwing-up one. He laughs, but the smile disappears once he sees his father hug his older brother, so full of pride that he’s never seen.
Tanya is quick to snatch the silver tray of rose petals in your hands, and you laugh, running your hands through your hair only to feel your absent jhumki, suddenly remembering Suguru. You turn around, trying to find him, only to see him already looking at you, a pretty smile on his pretty face. You motion him to come closer to the mandap, and when he refuses, you walk over to him and grab a hold of his arm, wanting him to stay close to you. He still refuses, but he has a smile on his face, a smile worth swooning over, you note.
A heavy hand settles on your shoulder, and Satoru’s blue eyes sparkle with a smile as they take you in, wanting you to stay with him. You refuse him at first, not wanting to leave Suguru behind, but when his bangs move as he shakes his head, allowing you to go, you let up in your attempts to get him. Satoru takes you right out of his hands, taking you close to the mandap and sitting behind the bride and the groom.
He has a quiet laugh on his face when you make a face at him, and you cannot recall the last time he had been this nice to you. Pushing that thought behind, you look at the rituals, when Satoru elbows you, telling you without words that soon you’ll be in place of his brother and sister in law. You’re quick to dismiss him, too quick, smacking his hand off yours.
- - - - - - - -
After the wedding weekend, Suguru has become a little more distant, only speaking when spoken to. 
Shoko is on her way to class when she sees Suguru’s usually inexpressive eyes filled with a deep longing, only to see you and Satoru in his line of sight. You still hadn’t gotten the time to catch her up to speed, but she cannot mistake the softness of his eyes. You’re sitting on Satoru’s lap, with him making you giggle over something, his white hair all up in your face.
“Hey,” She says, walking up to you and Satoru. You say a cheerful hi, a beaming smile on your face.
“Your boyfriend’s here, baby,” Satoru teases. He gently punches her shoulder, saying, “Hey handsome,”
“Can we do this later?” Shoko asserts. “Come with me,” She tells you. You kiss Satoru’s cheek before getting up and walking out of his earshot with your best friend, curious about what was bothering her.
The sound of your name has your attention, and she begins, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys this weekend,” she pauses, looking into your eyes. “But I just saw Suguru, and I think that he likes you,”
“Suguru? Are you mad?” You dismiss her concern with a small shake of your head. “Satoru and I are now stable because of his help,”
“He was staring at you girl,” She says. “Only one-sided lovers look at other people like that,”
“You were also staring at him,” You tease, bumping against her shoulder with a chuckle. “Sorry, you were observing him,”
“Don’t try to act so smart now,” She says, a frown on her face. “I just let you know what I saw, the rest is your choice.” Shoko walks away, leaving you staring at her brown bob.
You think over her words for a moment, and your feet involuntarily take you to Suguru. He was easy to spot in the crowd - his tall stature and his dark bun gave him away easily.
“Good morning, Suguru,” You say, trying to be cheerful.
“Morning,” He acknowledges you, voice back to his indifferent confidence. He’s quickly turning around, not waiting for you.
“Listen!” You call, and he turns to you. “I just wanted to thank you once again…”
“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” He says, quickly turning away once again.
“Suguru…” You say his name, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t know why you feel this nervous. He wouldn’t be the first guy to like you, but then why was your heart beating so furiously, why was your face burning. “Is everything fine? Like between the two of us?”
“No, nothing is fine,” Suguru says, fully turning to you. His cold indifference hurts you more than you’d like to admit. It hurts in a way different from Satoru’s indifference. His indifference makes you mad, but Suguru’s detached voice makes you sad. You don’t know if it's a good thing or a bad one.
You suddenly feel the need to explain yourself for some reason, words coming out with a stammer, which was unlike yourself. “Suguru, I love Satoru,”
“I know,” He says, his voice even. “Are you telling that to me or yourself?” Your taken aback by his question, but before you can answer, he adds, “I came to Saint Teresa with one thing in mind - to make a better future for myself and win that Student of the Year trophy… got distracted for a bit, but now I see my goal crystal clear, and no one can come between me and the trophy now.”
The Competition
Dean officially announces the SOTY competition open: four phases and eight finalists and one winner. Starting from the aptitude exam, to the treasure hunt, the dance competition and the final triathlon - the competition is meant to judge the students on all grounds, and only the one who is the best at everything wins.
Everyone is spending their every waking minute preparing for the aptitude assessment in their own way - hiding the fact that they are studying from their friends. You pretend to read Vogue instead of your textbooks, Shoko pretends to sleep but holds up a torch in her comforter to read. Nanami stacks books on top of books, the ever studious man of the school. Satoru pretends to compose music but he’s actually going through his statistics notes, with you helping him with his coffee and providing motivation to each other to study. Suguru has grown a little more detached from your circle, but he doesn’t hide the fact that he is preparing for the exam. Tanya is spending her time preparing - to cheat, that is, making her settings with the nerds. Haibara tries to mug everything up, but finally gives up and starts focusing on his prayers instead.
Come the time of the result announcement - all of you make it to the top sixteen, moving on to the next round -�� the treasure hunt. To everyone’s surprise - Tanya makes it into the top 16, with the 16th position, Satoru makes it to the 10th spot, you make it to the 6th, Shoko makes it to the 4th, Suguru to the 3rd, Nanami to the 2nd. But to everyone - even Dean Yaga who was announcing the result, he had to take his glasses off and read correctly - it was Yu Haibara of all people that got the 1st position. Nanami nearly lost his mind, with Ichiji having held the blond man back to stop him from attacking Yu right there.
Once the gang's all outside, Kento grabs Haibara by the collar of his blazer and demands, “How the fuck did you get first?” 
“I don’t know, I just said Jai Mata Di and marked all the answers,” Haibara says.
“Nanami, stop being such a drama queen,” Satoru complains. “All that matters is that all of us are in the top 16 now. What does it matter who wins or loses?”
“It matters,” Suguru says, volunteering in a conversation involving someone other than Satoru for the first time in days. “We have big intentions, and you have an affluent dad. You can easily join any university per your choice… We don’t have that privilege.”
“You’re after my dad so much,” Satoru says, making gestures with his hands. “Please take my dad and give me your intentions instead.”
Suguru just shakes his head at that, but Tanya intervenes with her sultry voice, “If you want my intentions,” she twirls her hair. “I’ll happily give them to you.”
You can feel Satoru’s hand raise, but you push it down by his shoulder, yet he still manages to blow a kiss in her direction. “The entire college knows of your intentions, Tanya,” You say, pushing down your boyfriend’s hand which blows a kiss at her yet again despite your efforts. “We’re drifting off topic here. We were talking about the competition and I believe there shouldn’t be any competition among friends. Right, Shoko?”
“Right…” Shoko says. “That’s why you were hiding when you were studying?” Satoru pushes you away, but you still hold his arm. Shoko continues, “Come on guys, if our goal is the same, there will be a competition,”
Satoru makes a pouty face, hissing to tease her,“Shoko, does that mean to win the competition yourself, you’ll make your best friend face defeat?”
“Yes,” Suguru says without hesitation, and all heads turn to him. “Perhaps,”
“He’s kidding,” Satoru chuckles, but Suguru doesn’t add to that, turning the pages of his book instead.
A couple days later, the top 16 after the aptitude test got to the fun part - the treasure hunt involving the entire campus. Four teams of four members each.
Suguru, Haibara, you were in one team, Team A; Satoru, Nanami, Shoko and Tanya in Team B and the rest were divided into two other teams. Taking their first clue, the teams rushed to solve the riddle to get to their respective locations. 
Suguru opened the clue card, reading out the riddle: Neela Asmaan Upar bhi Neela Asman Neeche bhi, paana hai jawab, toh gehrayi me jaao janab. (Blue sky above, blue sky below too, If you want to get the answer, then go deep sir.)
Haibara whines on hearing the riddle, snatching the envelope and scanning it as if to see any answer that maye have been hidden. “Yaar, what does this clue even mean? How can there be a sky up and sky below too? The first clue itself has our hopes running in the water,”
“Haibara, you’re a genius!” Suguru says, grabbing the brunet’s shoulders and shaking him.
“Really?” Haibara beams, before Suguru yells, “No!” leaving him confused. Suguru takes off, leaving the three of you to chase him with your shorter legs.
Meanwhile, Satoru opened Team B’s first clue and read out the riddle: Atit ki muskaan hai ajit ki pyaari, Nazron se peechha kare, adbhut hai ye naari. (The smile of the past is Ajit's beloved, follows you with her eyes, this woman is amazing.)
“Who’s this Ajit?” Nanami asks. frowning. “Any faculty member?”
“No, it’s not a faculty member,” Satoru says, thinking hard. 
“I only know one Ajit (Ajit Khan),” Nanami says, and Satoru catches up. The both of them simultaneously say, “Mona darling, sona kahan hai?” (Mona darling, where’s the gold? - an iconic dialogue)
“Anywhere,” Tanya says in her sultry voice, playing with her hair. She’s just happy to be part of Satoru’s team.
“That’s it!” Shoko screams. “It’s the Mona Lisa!” and the four of them take off running to find the room with the Mona Lisa.
In the meantime, Suguru reaches the swimming pool, where you, Haibara and your fourth teammate frown, when Suguru recites the riddle again and deciphers it to be the swimming pool. He’s quickly taken off his shoes, socks and t-shirt and jumps into the pool, finding the next clue at the bottom.
You open the clue as Suguru puts his shirt and shoes back on. The clue reads: Ped bhi hu aur nahi bhi, baat karo toh sunu bhi, khoobsurat hu aisi mai, ke baat kare guru bhi (I am a tree and I’m not, if you talk then I listen, I’m so beautiful, that the teacher also talks to me)
“Tree, the plantations?” Haibara suggests and the four team members rush from the swimming pool to the plantations.
Team B finds Mona Lisa in the assembly hall, a brick with her hair holding the clue. Even Satoru has to jump to fetch that clue. The second riddle read: Farishte ne gaaye zindagi ke geet, asmaan se aayega unka mit, sade nau baje unka milan, jawab degi suraj ki kiran. (The angels sang the songs of life, their friends would come from the sky, meeting at nine thirty, the sun's beam would answer.) 
“Where will we get angels?” Tanya dumbly asks.
Satoru leans close to her, and says in an annoyed voice, “In the canteen,”
“Really?” Tanya says, seemingly believing him.
The answer suddenly strikes Satoru, and he yells out, “The Church, the Church! We have only five minutes to nine-thirty, run!”
It’s hard for Shoko and Tanya to keep up with Satoru and Nanami’s long legs, but they somehow manage. They reach the church just in time - and the sun beam is falling on the Hymn Book of the choir. Satoru is quick to snatch the clue out of the book, and reads: aakhri padav aakhri mystery, kitni majboot hai aapki chemistry (Last stop, last mystery, how strong is your chemistry)
“Let’s go, chemistry lab!” Satoru yells, and Team B rushes away.
“Wait, wait!” You yell, stopping your teammates. “It said tree so we rushed here, but there is no guru visible!”
“Yaar are we looking for this guru or the plant?” Haibara asks.
“We’re looking for the clue,” Suguru deadpans.
“I’m telling you this is not working,” You pant out.
“If you have any other bright idea why don’t you share it with the class?” Suguru says, annoyed.
“Why are you being so mean?” You snap.
“Yeah, man, leave bhabhi alone,” Haibara says, at which Suguru snaps even worse than he did at you. “Abey! Bhabhi hogi teri.” (idk how to write this in english)
“Who is the guru on this campus?” You ask, catching your breath.
“Waheguru?” Haibara prompts.
“We don’t have a Gurdwara on campus, Yu!” You say, frustrated.
“Well, there should be one!” Haibara protests.
“Take that up with Yaga!” Suguru says.
“That’s it!” You jump, clasping your hands as if releasing them would take your answer away. “The guru is Yaga! He’s famous for talking to his bonsai plant!” Then you all rush off to Dean Yaga’s office, finally finding your third clue. You snap the envelope open as Suguru lifts up the bonsai plant, and quickly start reading out loud: aazad hindustan ki peheli awaaz, khamosh kamra batayega yeh raaz. (The first voice of independent India, a silent room will tell this secret.)
“The silent room! It’s the library,” Suguru yells and all of you run to the library.
“Nanami, fast, grab the envelope!” Shoko yells. Satoru beats him to it, opening it only to find a blank envelope.
“What man, Nanami, it's blank!” Satoru gets frustrated and shoves the envelope to Nanami.
“I’m sorry on behalf of the organisers!” Nanami snaps back.
Shoko snatches the envelope from Nanami, shushing the two idiots up. “Let me think,” she says.
“Now what exactly are we looking for?” Haibara asks once you are in the library.
“Independent India's first voice…” you mumble trying to recall your history lesson. “It was Nehru,” you remember. 
“Tryst with destiny!” Suguru suddenly remembers, and the four of you rush to the history section.
“You were right, Shoko!” Nanami says, rubbing the ammonia solution on the black envelope. “The ammonia makes the ink visible!”
“Okay okay, now what does it say?” Shoko asks, jumping with excitement.
The final clue is same for everyone, the riddle saying: khush toh bohot hoge tum ki yeh hai aakhri padav, savere waali ghanti se paar hoga yeh chadav, dhyaan se padhna isko aur dena apna sujhav, kyunki upar waale alfaz karenge jeet ka chunav. (You will be very happy that this is your last stop, this climb will be crossed by the morning bell, read this carefully and give your suggestion, because the above words will choose the victor.)
“The morning bell?” Haibara mutters. “Our period bell?”
Team A runs from the library, climbing up the stairs to try and reach the period bell. On their way, they spot Team B, already higher up in the floors, closer to the period bell of the school. Suguru, Haibara and you find the step ladder and pull it near to the bell, and Haibara quickly climbs up the ladder as you and Suguru hold on to it for stability. Meanwhile, Nanami has taken to walking on the roof instead of taking the normal path, surprising everyone.
Soon it’s a race between Nanami and Haibara, and Haibara wins, striking the bell first. Just then, Ichiji comes and yells, “It's the wrong answer!”
“Oh! Oh! It’s the bell tower!” You yell, excited as you realise the answer. Suguru tries to shush you, but you yell again, “It’s the bell tower!”
“Thanks, bestie!” Shoko yells from above, and the next chase is between you and her, and she is faster. From the lecture building to the bell tower it’s a hard chase, and you’re already too out of breath, so Shoko manages to climb the stairs more swifty than you can. You reach the top just as Shoko rings the bell, only to be told that this answer is wrong as well.
Both your teams have gathered back in the ground, with all eight minds thinking over the riddle over and over. Aaj khush toh bohot hoge tum, Suguru and Satoru seemingly share a brain cell and think of the iconic dialogue of the movie Deewaar. In the scene of the dialogue, Amitabh Bacchan’s character can be seen ranting to the goddess in a temple.
They both look at each other, spelling out a swear word and sprint off to the in campus temple. They are both fast, but Satoru has an upper hand of not having his drenched pants weighing him down. It’s an intense run down between two best friends having a fun rivalry - running to win rather than to defeat. Satoru takes a head start, but Suguru’s track medals have not been in vain and he manages to outrun Satoru and hit the bell just a moment earlier than Satoru, falling to his knees on the white marble of the goddess Saraswati’s temple, both of them bursting out in laughter and sharing a high five.
After Dean Yaga congratulates Team A and praises Team B’s performance, Satoru puts his hand on Suguru’s shoulder and pats his chest. “Let’s go celebrate, you win, Suguru,” He says, peeking up at him from behind his glasses. “I want to go home with you?”
“Why do you want to go home with me?” Suguru asks, raising his eyebrow.
“I am craving some home-made food,” Satoru says. “Come on, please,”
“You don’t have food at your house?” Suguru teases.
“I’m bored of my home’s room service,” Satoru replies.
Suguru shakes his head, patting Satoru’s shoulder, “Let’s go,”
“The food is fab, Dadi, it’s fab!” Satoru says, quickly gulping down a spoonful of the rajma and rice.
“You should come more often then, son,” Dadi says, a cheerful smile on her old face. She looks amazing for her age - most of her hair is still black and her eyes hold a youthful charm with the wisdom that comes as one ages.
“I had to invite myself, even today,” Satoru chuckles. “Do you know - your grandson isn’t normal. Did he fall as a baby?” Dadi laughs at that, but Suguru’s Chachi makes a sour face. 
“Aye, shut up and eat your food,” Suguru says in his deadpan voice.
“Suguru, that is not the way to speak to guests,” His Chachi chides. She turns to Satoru, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, son - Can I call you son?” Satoru nods with a spoonful in his mouth. “You look much more charming and handsome in real life than you look in those Page 3 photos,”
Suguru and Dadi share a glance, stifling their laughter at Chachi’s comment. “Save some butter for the chapatis, Geeta.” Dadi scorns.
“Butter is expensive, Mother,” Chachi sneers. “We only have words to work with in this house,”
“We’re shareholders in your dad’s company, Satoru,” His Chacha says, trying to dissolve the tension. “Suguru, you must take some tips of the stock market from him and share it with me,” he chuckles. “Let us benefit from your friendship,”
“I’ll make use of his friendship,” Suguru says with a smile, holding Satoru’s gaze. It is a smile shared between friends, meaning unknown to others. “I’ll use him to my benefit so much that I’ll leave him behind,”
“Of course, you should buy the Taj Mahal,” Chachi snaps, her voice ringing in everyone’s ears. “Dreams don’t need any money,”
“Dreams are for duffers like me,” Satoru suddenly says, unable to stand the way Suguru’s Chachi speaks to him. “Suguru is a blue-chip investment. He will make you guys millionaires. You’ll see,”
Suguru’s dark eyes are filled with such adoration and respect for Satoru - for he has never had a friend believe in him this much. His support meant the world to Suguru, and he thinks that maybe letting people get close to him isn’t too bad.
He walks Satoru to the door, calling after him before he manages to get to his blue Ferrari. “What you said in front of Chachi, it felt nice,” Suguru says in a small voice, hands shoved in his jeans pocket and eyes on the grass. “Felt like my own person was saying it,” When he looks up to meet Satoru’s blue eyes, he adds in a teasing voice, “I didn’t know Mr Gojo’s useless son had this talent,”
“Yeah roast and compliment me in the same sentence,” Satoru shakes his head with a smirk. “Is that how you say thanks?”
“Okay, I’ll say it,” Suguru inhales a deep breath. “Thank you,”
“Thanks,” Satoru says, nodding as he studies Suguru closely. “Why do you always hide your emotions?”
“Why are you talking like a woman?” Suguru tries to dodge.
“I’m talking about my heart and feelings,” Satoru admits with a sigh. “There’s no one back home who will listen to me, and I don’t think [name] really gets me. So I thought I’ll try to speak to you,”
“I too lack practice in that matter,” Suguru confesses. “Those who listened to me are gone now, and Dadi has hearing aids.”
The two friends chuckle, and Satoru says, “So basically we are in the same situation,” he puts his hands on Suguru’s elbows, adding, “Whatever happens, we will always share it with each other.”
Being a tease is Suguru’s defence mechanism, so he says, “Are you going to kiss me right now?”
“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru punches his shoulder. “Okay, I’ll see you.”
“Suguru!” His Chacha’s voice comes from inside the house. “Call an ambulance - Mom - I don’t know, just call an ambulance, quick!”
Satoru follows them to the hospital, and Dadi is being taken to the critical care unit - the doctor says she had a cardiac arrest. Suguru is following them, worry written all over his pretty face when Chachi suddenly stops him, asking him where he thinks he’s going.
“Dadi-”
“We will look after your Dadi,” Chachi sternly says. “You bring bad luck wherever you go,”
Suguru doesn’t fight back, but the words cut deeper than any superficial wound ever could. As soon as his Chachi turns around, Suguru nearly runs out of the hospital, Satoru hot on his heels, calling after him. He tries to console him, but Suguru only pushes him off.
“Suguru,” Satoru says, hugging him despite his protests. He returns the hug after a moment, then pulls away quickly feeling the lump in his throat threaten to explode. “Are you okay or do you need another hug?”
Suguru smiles with tears in his eyes, not letting them fall. “I’m okay,”
The next morning, you’re there with flowers in your hands, ready to see Suguru. You wave at him with a small, reassuring smile and a frangipani bouquet in your hands - he’s holding your gaze, and to your surprise, he returns your smile and waves back.
“Suguru, I know you’re mad at me,” You say once you’re close to him. “You don’t even look at me lately, I don’t know what I did wrong but - ”
“I’m not in the mood to listen to your sad rants,” He says, voice breaking. “Dadi is unwell,”
“I know,” You say, exasperated. “That’s why I’m here Suguru.” His eyes hold so much grief and pain in them, and you want to hug him, let him cry on your shoulder and tell him that you’re going to be there for him no matter what - but you refrain. “Are you okay?” you softly ask.
“I’m okay,” Suguru nods, then turns to you, examining your outfit - it’s a short green dress with a low neckline  and a pullover over it, with knee high boots. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” You ask. He eyes your clothes, and you begin to explain, “I know, I know - I don’t have any clothes suitable to come visit the hospital. I am going to go shopping today though.” He is extremely confused and you add, “I want to come here daily, Suguru.”
Suguru’s smile - so full of gratitude and his usually stoic eyes full of tears - welcome you and you take that as a step forward. You don’t know why you’re so giddy at him letting you come visit. You never bothered making friends with Satoru’s old friends before coming to Saint Teresa, but right now he’s the farthest thought in your heart when you look at the man in front of you; so vulnerable and needing support, but without the voice to ask for it.
“Happy birth-” You accidentally say while handing him the flowers, then turn away quickly, embarrassing yourself. Why you turn so stupid around him, you have no idea. He makes you nervous, you want to impress him, want him to think that you’re both pretty and smart, that you’re worthy of - what, you don’t know. You fear the answer, so you don’t dwell on it.
(Ishq Waala Love)
You turn around to look up at him, playing your embarrassment off with a confident smile on your face, and Suguru teases a smile at you, putting the frangipani to his chest. 
Walking away, you’re suddenly intercepted by Satoru - he takes you by surprise - wrapping his arms around you with a cheerful greeting of “Hey, baby,” and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You had completely forgotten about him while you were with Suguru - but the pretty man with his black bangs doesn’t leave your mind while you’re in Satoru’s arms, his white hair tickling your forehead. You push him back a little, trying to put some distance between the two of you as your eyes flit back to Suguru - he’s already looking at you, back to his grieving self.
The next day, you’re back dressed in a yellow and orange suit, strutting to Suguru and Satoru sitting on the bench outside. Twirling the ends of your dupatta between your fingers, you deliberately make a show of ignoring Satoru, batting your eyes at Suguru, saying, “I want to meet Dadi,”
“No,” Suguru says, his voice soft, matching his violet gaze.
“Why?” You ask, brows knitted. “Am I not dressed correctly?”
“Yeah,” Satoru says, his voice is soft but has an edge of laughter. “Let’s go to the mandir?” You narrow your eyes at the laughing duo and stomp away. Satoru follows after you when Suguru tells him to, eyes crinkles with laughter.
Later, you sit beside Suguru when he is with Dadi, who is passed out on the white bed, connected to many machines. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, so close but so far away, too many things clouding your hearts and minds.
You’re sitting between Suguru and Satoru, the three of you drinking coffee and making jokes, when you’ve subconsciously leaned against Suguru, your head on his shoulder, looking up at his pretty smile with a toothy grin of your own. You hold his arm for a moment before coming to your senses and putting a little distance between the two of you. Satoru puts his arm across your shoulder and pulls you close, but his embrace doesn’t bring the familiar warmth. You push him away, annoyed at his lame joke and take the empty cups from both the men, throwing them in the bin.
It's the final time for Dadi, time for everyone to say their goodbyes. Suguru sits outside her room, his tall frame sulking and alone, bangs half trying to hide the pain and sorrow in his eyes. Your heart cries for him, wanting to embrace him, to show him that you will be there for him no matter what, that you care for him and you won’t hurt him.
Suddenly, Satoru is in front of you, caressing your cheek with his gentle touch, fingers roughed up from his guitar, asking if you want to go get coffee with him. It’s like you are suddenly doused in cold water, pushed out of your trance, and you blink rapidly to get a grip on reality before telling Satoru that you aren’t in the mood for coffee. He squeezes your hand with a smile before leaving you.
The sight of Suguru pressing his hands to his eyes has you right back in that trance, chest rising and falling rapidly as you feel his pain. You sit beside him, trying to give him a smile of confidence, but your eyes betray your worry. He returns your smile with a half smile of his own, but his pretty eyes swam with tears, head lowered, bangs hiding his face. You put your hands on his interlaced ones resting on his lap, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. You cannot stand seeing him in such pain, ready to do anything to make him go back to the guy you had met in Thailand, cocky confidence rubbing off on you. You don’t say anything, holding his teary gaze. He gives you another half smile at your comforting touch, and your eyes soften - you have the sudden inexplicable urge to hold him, let him melt into your embrace and cry his eyes out into your chest as you stand between him and this cruel world, caressing his back and kissing the top of his head. His smile falls, and the intensity of his pretty eyes has you rethinking everything, chest rising and falling rapidly as he lets your smaller hand fall between his two large hands, squeezing it.
When Dadi wakes up for a bit, Suguru takes you to see her, and you greet her softly then excuse yourself, giving them some space. You watch from outside the room as he speaks to Dadi, his back to her, shaking from holding back his cries. Dadi says something and he turns to her, holding her hand and breaking down crying, lying beside her as she weakly comforts her sobbing grandson. You’ve started crying with him, wiping your tears only to have them fall out immediately after.
The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that Suguru was with his Dadi when she passed peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family.
Suguru had become withdrawn after Dadi, not saying anything, keeping to himself. He barely even spoke to Satoru, and the others didn’t even see him outside of mandatory classes. Even in the classes, the ever active and teacher’s favourite Suguru had stopped answering, zoned out in most classes he attended.
Suguru is in his dorm, putting away his dirty laundry when you walk in the open door, hands held together in front of you. “Satoru’s dorm is a little further ahead,” He says, barely even looking at you.
“I’m here to see you,” You say, voice shaking.
He stills for a moment, his expression bitter. “To give me your condolences?” He forces a smile. “Thank you,”
“Satoru was saying that you don’t want to see anyone,” You start, inhaling a deep breath to keep your voice steady. You step closer to him and his desk as he grabs a book without any particular reason. “Staying alone like this-”
“I have to make a habit of staying alone,” He snaps, voice breaking at the end. It breaks your heart, tears welling in your eyes at his throaty voice. “Everyone who was close to me is gone.” He composed himself a little, adding, “You should stay away, or you’ll die too.”
“You need a friend-” you softly say, your body pulsing with your frantic heart.
“We can’t be friends!” He suddenly raises his voice, and you have to blink back the tears of frustration. You don’t know why his words cut so deeply, you’ve never cared this much about other people - not like you care about Suguru. “You want to be friends with me?” He looks at you for a moment, inhaling a composing breath. “Thank you,” he says in a small voice.
You’re staring at him by standing by his desk, back to you trying not to think about why it was affecting you so much, finding any other thing to make him talk. His pretty hair is messy and unkempt, and you want to take care of him, treat him to all the good things in life. That is when you spot your jhumki - sitting right on his desk at the edge of a mug. You remember that jhumki, the one you had been struggling to put on back in Thailand, and the way that Suguru had touched your hair to hide the missing earring. You remember his touch, his gaze, and how he had agreed to help you save your relationship.
You grab it from his desk, feeling a grin curve your lips. “Please leave,” Suguru says, seeing you around his desk. “I told you I don’t want to see anyone,”
“But Sugu, this jhumki won’t look good on you,” You teasingly say, maintaining an air of innocent confusion. “Not without it’s complete pair,”
Suguru has a pretty smile on his face, one that you are delighted to be the reason for. You purse your lips, looking at his pretty face and messy hair, taking little steps closer to him and finally hugging him like you’ve wished you could for a long time. Much to your delight, he hugs you back, head resting on your shoulder sniffling to hold himself back from crying.
Suguru is the one to pull back from the hug, pushing out the hair that has fallen to your face as you longingly look up at him, his gentle touch making you lose your mind. His large hands fall to your neck, thumb behind your ear as your eyes flit down to his pretty, worried lips then back to his eyes, the delicate touch of his thumb tickling you in just the right way. Heavy breaths fill the little space between you two, leaning closer with your eyes closed until your lips brush against his.
Your hands on his back pull him closer, and one of his hands goes behind your head while the other goes down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as your lips move against each other. The familiarity of his touch has your mind short circuiting - his kiss brings a calm security instead of the anxious butterflies, the movement of your lips and tongues filled with such desperate longing - a longing for affection and love rather than lust, the gentle kiss of a lover, worshipping, all consuming and caring. You’ve never been kissed like this before, like you are a prayer, like he is afraid that you’ll disappear as soon as he opens his eyes. It was wrong what you were doing, but then why did it feel so good? So right?
When he pulls back, you want him to kiss you more - you can see it in the sad gleam of his eyes that he doesn’t want to let you go either. His pupils dilated and brows relaxed, it’s a rare sight, and it’s a sight that you’ll never forget.
There’s a shuffling sound behind you - heads turn to the room's door only to find a distraught Satoru - hands fall to your side at the sight of Satoru’s big blue eyes filled with tears, you chase after him as he storms away without a word and you begin to chase after him, calling out his name.
“Satoru, I’m sorry! Listen to me!” You plead.
“Just leave me alone,” He says, throwing his bag. Satoru is out by the common area and there’s a swarm of students surrounding you three at the noise. 
“Satoru, please!” You plead, reaching out to him with your hands raised.
“Just leave me alone and don’t touch me,” He yells. Kicking down a random stack of chairs. 
“Just listen to me, please!” You plead, your voice breaking. You manage to grab his shoulders, but he is quick to push you off, face red and eyes glowering with anger. “Just leave me alone, I said!” He yells, louder this time. Suguru is quick to intervene, only to be pushed away by Satoru. It’s turning into a brawl and you hate it, you hate it so much. You hate your stupid heart, you hate yourself for not listening to Suguru and staying away from him like he asked you too. Your heart aches seeing the sheer heartbreak on Satoru’s face, his usually bright, humorous eyes filled with rage and betrayal and you despise that you’re the cause of it.
“You keep your mouth shut!” Satoru yells, somehow sounding even angrier at Suguru. “You have no class, no civility! I should never have talked to poor people like yourself. I am - was - your best friend, and you’re there kissing my girlfriend?! You are no one’s person!” He is pushing Suguru harder with each word, and Suguru accepts it, not even trying to fight back. He too has tears pooling in his eyes, messy hair falling to his face. “This is why you have no one to call your home.” Satoru’s welled eyes have turned red with rage, and with each shove his anger only seems to grow. “Everyone is dead! You mom, dad, and now Dadi-”
That is what snaps Suguru, the mention of Dadi and he punches Satoru with such force that his best friend nearly falls down. Suguru picks him up, only to punch him in the face again. “If you say anything regarding my mom and dad, I will break your face,” He snaps, voice colder than ice. “You aren’t even your mom-dad’s person, how can you even be my best friend? All this talk about class and status, what do you do? All you do is use your dad’s influence and money.”
“Dad’s money is all that you’re after right?” Satoru doubles down in his vicious words. “That’s why you befriended me, right? You wanted to have a life like me - and now you’re also stealing my girlfriend?!”
“What’s this girlfriend-boyfriend thing, huh?” Suguru doubles down as well, high from the anger coursing through his veins. “She never loved you, and you-? You’ve been out there everywhere putting your face on every other girl you see. You’re calling this a relationship? You have no right to call her your girlfriend!”
“You’re no one to tell me of my rights,” Satoru yells, holding Suguru’s t-shirt’s collar, ready to throw another punch. “She is mine, mine only!”
“Why don’t you ask her whose she is?” Suguru challenges. “She loves me, and I love her!”
They’ve started throwing punches everywhere, the whole school watching their brawl unfold. Satoru hits, Suguru punches, it’s a mess - a mess that you cannot stand, for reasons you aren’t ready to accept yourself. You walk up to them, tears glistening in your eyes and yell at them to stop. They do, but the air is still thick with tension as you speak, “What do you even know about me? About my feelings?” You speak to the both of them, voice breaking. “Nothing! And the sad part is, you aren’t even willing to listen! You just want to win me - I am not a part of any competition. I am not a prize. I am done with this whole thing.” 
Suguru looks upset, ashamed of himself, but Satoru only looks angry - and you don’t know what pains you more. You rush away, before anyone in the gathering crowd as a chance to stop you and hide in your dorm.
Satoru’s anger doesn’t subside even as he reaches home. Even as his mother shows concern for the bruises on his face, he only pushes her off, not in the mood to see anyone. If his mood wasn’t already so bad, it got worse as his father came up to stop him, demanding that he treat his mother with respect.
“Look at yourself!” Isamu Gojo scolds with a yell. “You look like a street thug! Who did you even fight? Answer me.”
“I don’t want to answer anyone,” Satoru says, meeting his dads angry gaze.
“You have to, you’re living under my roof,” Isamu snaps. “I’ve tolerated your misdemeanour for so long. You can’t behave properly at home, at least mind your family’s image outside of the house.”
“You’ve not made any good image, Dad,” Satoru finally says, swallowing the angry lump in his throat. “The only thing you’ve made is money.”
“That’s the money funding your life, you know?!” Isamu yells, eyes wide in anger. “You only know two things - having fun and making a fool out of me,”
“What are you ashamed of, hm?” Satoru asks, lips wobbling as he speaks. “That I don’t want to be an industrialist? That I want to be a musician?”
“Yes! I’m ashamed that my son has such middle-class dreams!” Isamu yells back.
“Dreams don’t have any class,” Satoru says, blinking away his tears. “But only a dad would get that, not a twisted man.” Isamu slaps him, and Satoru’s voice finally breaks as he says, “I have no wish to live in your house, and I don’t want to be your son,”
“You’ve lost the privilege of being my son,” Isamu says, an angry frown on his face.
“When was I ever your son?” Satoru asks, then turns around to leave. His mother tries to stop him, but he pushes her off once again, vowing to himself to never turn back, to never step foot in any of his father’s properties again and to never take a penny from this man.
He is filled with a new determination to win the Student of the Year trophy - to prove everyone and himself that he wasn’t useless, that he was more than Mr. Gojo’s money made him. His goal had now shifted from winning the trophy to defeating everyone else - particularly Suguru.
The second last stage of the competition - the prom where everyone needs to bring a date - is close and everyone’s preparations are in full swing. The campus gym is occupied and people are busy finding dates and practising their steps, for no one ever wants to lose after coming this close. 
Satoru has become a loner, avoiding even Haibara during lunch hour. Suguru too is back to his quiet self, speaking only when he deems it to be necessary. You… Well, you’ve had the worst burnt of their fight somehow - utterly messed up with your own emotions - your mind says one thing but your heart craves another, you’re avoiding everyone like they are the plague. 
Shoko finds you sitting all alone, eyes distant. “Hey, what’s up?” She asks, sitting beside you. “Who are you going to prom with? Satoru or Suguru?”
“It’s not funny, Shoko,” you say with a frown. “The whole school is gossiping about me now,”
“Ignore the gossip,” Shoko says, voice serious. “Tell me about your feelings,”
“I don’t even want to think about them!” You’re exasperated, torn by your own moralities and desires.
“You love Suguru,” Shoko sternly says, trying to talk sense into you. 
“Shoko, Satoru and I-”
“What about it?” She stops you. “There was nothing there - you were angry and miserable for most of the time. It was not a match made in heaven, rather a match made in your elite circles.” Her concern is genuine. “I know you’re confused right now, and you’re allowed to be confused. You should take some time. Your heart will answer for you.”
“There’s this competition right in the middle of everything,” You sigh.
“Then leave it,” Shoko suddenly says, an idea forming in her pretty head. You turn your head to her, eyes wide. “This stupid competition is not more important than your feelings, right?”
You discreetly scrutinise her fidgety behaviour and say, “You’re right, I won’t take a part in this competition. Disqualifying isn’t that bad,” you turn to her just as she suppresses her smile. “What do you think?”
“I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” Shoko says, squeezing your shoulder in support.
The next evening, Shoko jogs up to Haibara after her gym session, saying, “Haibara, I’ve decided that I will be your date to prom this year,”
“You aren’t going to be my date,” He says, voice sassy. “You’re late.” He sounds thrilled saying your name, “She has already asked me to be her date.”
Shoko storms into your shared room and sees you checking yourself out in the mirror, seeing which dress looks pretty on you. You barely pay any attention to her as she angrily stomps her feet.
“Are you seriously going to prom with Haibara?” She practically spits out.
“Yeah, I am,” You say, feigning innocence. “I suddenly thought, why should I even let Satoru or Suguru influence my life?”
“And why did you think of that so suddenly?” She asks, voice bitter.
“Shouldn’t you be happy?” You say, frowning a little. “I don’t get this reaction,”
“What do you mean?” Shoko says, her breaths suddenly heavy with the way you’ve caught her little scheme.
“You know exactly what I mean, Shoko,” You say. “But I am not giving up on prom just to reduce your competition,” You look her up and down once, adding, “Because, lets face it, you and dance is like me and poor,”
Shoko rapidly blinks, then says, “You’re so disgusting,” she turns to leave. “I don’t even want to talk to you,”
You pat her shoulder, and bat your eyelashes, “I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” echoing her words back to her.
Shoko leaves your room, walking to put as much distance as she can between the two of you. In the basketball court, she sees Suguru, alone and begins rambling about your confused state under her breath, pretending that she didn’t see him.
“Shoko, are you okay?” He stops her and asks once she is close to him.
“No, I’m not okay. I’ve just fought with her.” Shoko says, not hiding her anger. “She is such a drama queen I’m so tired of her!”
“Why what happened?” He asks, thin brows creased with concern.
“She says she’s confused between you and Satoru,” She says, and Suguru instantly turns to the ball in his hands, avoiding her angry brown eyes. “But she is going to prom with Haibara, so Satoru gets jealous. Then there’s no confusion, right?”
“Right,” Suguru hesitates, turning to the basket instead, his bangs hiding his heartbreak.
“Anyways, I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this,” She says, brown eyes gleaming with excitement, seeing the effect of her words on Suguru. “I’ll speak to you later, okay?” She walks away, praying that her little scheme works.
“Shoko,” He calls after her, and her heart does a little dance at her plan working out. “Who are you going to prom with?”
“No one,” She says in a small voice, her lips pulled down in a frown. 
“Haibara, please help me find a date to prom,” Nanami asks, sitting on the edge of his friend’s bed. “There’s no one willing to go with me,”
“I love you Nanami,” Haibara says, sitting up with his hand on the blond’s shoulder. “But I cannot go to prom with you,”
“I don’t want to go to prom with you, I want you to help me find a date to the prom, man,” Nanami says.
“Nanami, leave,” Satoru says, storming into Haibara’s room. Nanami grumbles under his breath but leaves the two alone. “Haibara, you’re taking her to prom?! Who do you even think you are?”
“I’m Haibara,” He says, frowning.
“Did a rabid dog bite you or something?” the white haired man shakes his head, irked. “Are you crazy? You go, you go and tell her that you can’t be her date to prom.”
“Hey! Stop it,” Haibara yells. “I don’t need your permission to do things in my life. I’m not your servant.”
Satoru chuckles, shaking his head. It’s demeaning. “What about all that time you spent on my credit card, hm?”
Something breaks in the brunet’s heart at the mention, so he says, “But i’ve also given you full service for that time,” He has a rare, angry frown on his face. “Haibara, park the car, Haibara, bring me a drink. Haibara, can you take her to the mall for me, please? Can you bring her an apology card? Now Haibara is taking her to prom as his date, arm in arm and you can’t do anything about it.”
“You too are showing your class,” Satoru says through gritted teeth.
“You are no one to talk about class, Satoru.” Haibara taunts. “The only thing you have is daddy’s money, and now you don’t even have that,” 
“Satoru, don’t be so upset now,” Tanya says, running her hands over his chest by the swimming pool. She undoes her robe, pressing herself against his chest, saying, “If you want… I could be your date,”
(the disco song)
The much anticipated prom night and dance competition is now here - eliminating four out of the twelve competitors - only 8 finalists and one winner of the trophy. Suguru-Shoko, Satoru-Tanya, Haibara-You, Nanami-Ichiji and the rest of the participants stand in the front, arm in arm with their dates in front of the judges with Dean Yaga introducing you to the two women. The tension in the air is thick and palpable, with everyone waiting to see who will snap first under the pressure. It was dance or disqualification, and everyone wanted to eliminate their competition.
Suguru and Shoko sneak a glance at you - Shoko with a proud smile and Suguru with a distant longing, and you feel yourself tearing up seeing your friend in his arms, by his side. You turn your head, happening to meet Satoru’s gaze. He has Tanya on his arm - the sight of it making your blood boil. You feel indifference, the discontent in your heart at the sight of Shoko and Suguru evaporating with the anger. You are there to win. 
The music plays and the competitors start with their opening steps. You’re half jealous of the way Suguru and Shoko move together so gracefully, painfully reminded of that time in Thailand that you had danced with him. Satoru and Tanya have bolder dance moves, the bitter memories of the past year feeding into your determination to move to the next round.
You dance with Haibara, it’s not as natural as it had been with Suguru, but you will have to do it. You’re both there to prove a point.
The solo dancing has you moving more gracefully, and you hope that the judges give you some extra points for the performance you put up. Suguru and Satoru perform their own well practised sequence with the music - you don’t feel much looking at them now, without their dates.
The competitors dance with the beats of the music, Suguru twirling a rarely graceful Shoko in his arms and Satoru spinning with Tanya in his arms. Haibara has you in his arms in a dance similar to waltz, and you put on your best smile for the judges. For a moment, in your head, you are with Suguru - with him easily manoeuvring you around, your steps perfectly in sync and your smile turns more genuine.
The music shifts and your partners change, you land into Satoru’s arms, looking right into his mellowed blue eyes so full of repentance and regret. You cannot stand to look at him, all the nights that you’ve stayed up crying at his antics flooding your memories as you turn away from him. The familiarity of his chest against your back and his breaths on your neck as you cringing. You thank the heavens as the music shifts again - Satoru spins you around and stomps away from you in anger, the memory of you kissing his best friend too fresh a wound.
The heavens tease you with kindness, turning cruel as you end up in Suguru’s arms, unable to look away from his pretty purple eyes, his hair smooth against your hand on his chest. It’s too much - the memory of his gentle touch, his easy smile, the warmth of his lips against yours, the sight of your best friend with him. Oh you want to embrace him so bad it makes you want to cry. This competition is a cruel joke - destroying your relationships and playing with your delicate heart like some child’s toy. You cannot bring yourself to look away from his eyes, so soft and gentle as he steadily holds your gaze with moist eyes even as you step back and move away from him, hands moving from his chest to your sides and you leave the stage, barely holding back your tears.
Satoru has been eyeing you, his heart breaking into a million pieces as a cold acceptance replaces the warmth of his affections for you. He now knows - it was too obvious, you never looked at him like you looked at Suguru just then. The acceptance is what he needs as he resumes with this solo dance, determined to snatch that trophy away from Suguru.
Suguru blinks away the tears the sight of yours brought, and he has to physically restrain himself from running after you. You need space, he thinks, before remembering the trophy that had started all of this in the first place, restarting his solo dance as he loses sight of you, the determination to win that trophy dulling.
Satoru, Shoko, Suguru and Haibara are four of the eight from the now-split gang that make into the finalists, ready for the final stage of the competition - the triathlon which begins with swimming, then cycling and ends with track.
Suguru sees Dean Yaga with Mr. Gojo one afternoon, only greeting Yaga with a good afternoon.
“Hi Suguru,” Mr Gojo shakes his hand with a bright smile. “How are you?”
Yaga beats Suguru to it, beaming with pride, “By the way, Suguru and Rohan are both in the top 8. It’s gonna be a tough battle, Isamu, not easy.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Isamu says, shaking his head.
“Well, you will say that,” Yaga says with a smile. “Satoru is your son, after all.”
“That’s why I’m saying this,” There’s something in Isamu’s voice that ticks Suguru off in the wrong way. “Suguru will win, my money is on you.” Isamu pats his shoulder, then says. “Good luck,”
The whole time, the top 8 finalists spend their time training for the triathlon - timing their swimming, working out their legs and spending time on the cycle. It's an intense couple of days, with much tension but no drama.
On the day of the triathlon, you sit in the bleachers by the swimming pool, watching your friends stretch and get ready before the swimming starts. Satoru’s eyes are determined and challenging Suguru, whose face hides his internal conflicts. Somehow, his eyes find yours in the buzzing crowd, and you give him a small smile, which he returns before putting his goggles on and getting ready to dive.
It’s Shoko with her slim body and fast reflexes that finishes the swim first, and quickly gets out and puts on her shoes before running out to the cycles. Haibara is next, followed by Suguru ahead of Satoru by a fraction of a second. Once out of the surveillance area, the brunet is quick to catch up to Shoko and push her off track and into the grass, promptly disqualifying her.
Satoru, fueled by rage, powers up and puts everyone behind on the cycling path, with Suguru close behind him, his internal battle now in favour of winning the trophy. Satoru is the first one to enter the race track, followed by Suguru. There’s a distance of more than 10 metres between them when Suguru starts running. Satoru runs on red rage while Suguru has the skills of the track, easily catching up the distance. Ultimately, the battle for the trophy is between the two of them and no one else. 
The last few seconds are intense, Suguru has caught up on the distance, and the both run parallelly now, in the bleachers, Isamu Gojo is cheering for his son’s defeat, while his mother looks concerned. For a moment, Suguru has overtaken Satoru, everyone is sure of his victory, when Suguru slows down a bit and adrenaline pushes Satoru. The smile on Isamu’s face fades as the chances of his son winning increase. Suguru’s eyes close for a moment, and Satoru becomes the first one to push the ribbon, by a mere hundredth of a second. He’s unsure of his win, but the angry frown on Suguru’s pretty face has him accepting it.
The crowd breaks out in cheers, celebrating Satoru’s win.
Later in the evening, after everyone has changed into formals and put on the Saint Teresa blazers, they assemble in the hall, waiting for Dean Yaga to finally hand the trophy to Satoru Gojo. Nanami isn’t himself, having spent the entire week disappointed in himself and Yaga - for making this competition unfair and breaking apart his friend group.
“Boys and Girls, I’m delighted to call on the stage,” Dean Yaga’s awfully cheerful voice cuts through everyone’s ears. “The Student of the Year, Satoru Gojo!” Satoru smiles at his mother’s delight for his victory, and goes up to the stage as the crowd cheers for him. “Congratulations, many congratulations,” Yaga says as he hugs his student. “I’m so proud of you, my boy. All yours.”
“Thank you,” Satoru says, voice more serious than usual. “Each student of Saint Teresa wants to win the title of the Student of the Year. In 25 years, there have been many successful students who won this trophy,” he pauses for a moment. Satoru’s pale nose is unusually pink, as if he has spent his time crying. “I don’t want to insult anyone - but I cannot accept this trophy.” He explains, “I have my reasons, reasons that I have no wish to explain.”
The hall falls into a stunned, confused silence. You, Shoko, Haibara are all confused - he wanted to win that trophy so badly, then why was he suddenly refusing to accept it? What even happened? He walks down the stage, stopping in front of his father for a second, a smirk on his face and shaking his head at the sombre old man, then walks away.
Suddenly, Nanami loudly claps his hands in the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention and making Satoru stop in his tracks. He gets up from his place and continues clapping. “Well done, Satoru, well done!” he says, his appearance dishevelled. “Good for you! Good for you!” he turns to the crowd, “Hey! Why aren’t you all clapping now, when you should?” He takes the hand of a student and claps his hands together. “Clap your hands!”
“Nanami! Behave yourself,” Yaga scolds from above the stage. “Are you drunk? The school will not tolerate this behaviour!”
“School?” Nanami chuckles with irony. “You know what Dean, to hell with this school, and to hell with you!”
“Nanami!” Coach gets up from his place, angry at his behaviour. Suguru gets up and tries to take Nanami away, but the blond stops him.
“This Student of the Year trophy was your idea, right?” Nanami turns to Yaga, clicking his fingers. “Then you should get the award.” He pretends to pick up an award from Suguru’s empty chair. “Here is your award for the most stupid idea!”
“All because you didn’t win?” Yaga’s voice is condescending. “Look at yourself Nanami, what were the chances?”
“Yes, I lost.” Nanami admits. “But why did I lose?” he’s raising his hand, pointing his finger to Yaga. “Because of you and your stupid rules. Guys and girls will run together, a date is mandatory for the prom,” he comically dances in his drunk anger, saying in a sing-song voice, “dance to win the trophy,” he turns back to Yaga with a chuckle. “But who cares, who cares if this idiot can’t dance? And who cares that people like us,” his finger goes back and forth between himself and Yaga. “Who cares that people like us can find a partner? You should’ve known that,” his tone is accusatory and he’s beginning to cry.
Your heart cries in sympathy, while Satoru and Suguru inch closer to him, trying to get him to stop. “Let me speak, this stupid drama has been going on for 25 years now,” Nanami challenges. “Why? Because Dean Masamichi Yaga has no entertainment in his own life. He’s alone, and he wants to break all our friendships too. You know what, you are a jealous, lonely and very unhappy man!”
Yaga’s face has reddened and his eyes welled up behind his signature glasses. He’s stunned into silence, but Nanami continues, “Congratulations, sir! Your final episode is a complete hit! You ended two years of friendships within two weeks.” His voice only gets louder. “We all hate each other!” He raises his hand in a military salute. “For that, I wanna salute you, Dean Masamichi Yaga!”
He drops the navy Saint Teresa blazer at the Dean’s feet and stomps away, pushing Satoru and Suguru on his way out.
Ten years later
Nanami’s phone rings in the middle of the night, who answers, grumpy. “Hello,” the voice on the other line says something. “There’s no Ichiji here… OH! Ichiji!” He wakes up as realisation hits him. “Hi! How are you? What? Okay, I’ll come to Dehradun as soon as I can. Yeah, no worries I’ll find them on instagram.”
Now in Dehradun, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Tanya recall their time back in Saint Teresa from a decade ago, when Satoru enters the hospital. He’s changed completely - a black blindfold instead of his round sunglasses make up his performer personna - the rockstar Satoru Gojo.  Although, he’s ditched his blindfold in favour of square glasses.
Tanya, just wrapping up her divorce with her fourth husband, is awfully delighted to see Satoru. He hugs Shoko, saying, “You’re looking like a girl now,” gesturing to her long brown hair.
Shoko shakes her head, saying, “I’m a doctor and a mother now. You’re a great person too now,”
“The consequence of leaving my father behind,” He jokes.
“I’m so proud of you,” He says. Satoru spots Haibara, and envelopes in a bear hug, the anger from a decade back forgotten. “Haibara, how are you doing?” He playfully punches Nanami on the shoulder. “How are you, man?”
“What did the doctors say?” He asks, enquiring about Yaga’s condition. Just then, their old coach comes in, complementing his intense, rockstar appearance. Satoru has piercings on his left ear now. He hugs Ichiji, now the new coach at Saint Teresa, walking with him to see the critically sick Yaga.
Suguru gets out of his white Mercedes sedan, dressed in a navy trench coat with a grey sweater vest underneath and a striped scarf warming his neck. His hair has grown out in the last 10 years, long straight hair falling down till his waist. Half of it is tied in an updo. He hasn’t changed as dramatically as Satoru, but he has grown a lot more confident and assertive.
He gets to the other side of the sedan, opening the door to offer you his hand, never wanting to let you open any doors since the two of you got together. You’ve been married for three years now, and you’re the happiest when with him. The only wish you have is that you could turn back time and have things go a little differently than they have, maybe everything would be even better, then.
Getting off the elevator, the first person you see is Shoko, who smiles sweetly at the two of you. Suguru gives her a side hug, greeting her kindly. He then leaves the two of you, knowing there are things left unresolved.
“Hey, Haibara,” Suguru says, deliberately not greeting Satoru right beside him. The long haired man with delicate features instead goes to greet Nanami and Tanya, seeing them after a long time.
“It's been a long time,” Shoko softly says, brown eyes apologising more sincerely than any words ever could.
“Yeah,” You raise your arms, hugging her. Pulling back, you shake your head with a smile. “I hoped you might call after having your baby… Such ego,”
“It wasn’t ego, it was shame,” Shoko admits. 
“It’s all in the past now, forget it,” You say.
“What was even the point of doing all that?” She repents. “I’m still a normal person,”
“Let’s leave all of that,” You say, shaking your head. “Show me the pictures of your baby now,” Shoko smiles brightly at you and shows you the pictures of her little baby girl. “What’s Tanya up to, these days?” you quietly ask her.
“Looking for a new husband,” She whispers to you. “I’d advice to keep Suguru away from her,”
“I trust him,” You say, dismissing her concerns and she gives you a knowing smile. “I'll have to keep him away from someone else though,” you turn to Satoru.
“Hmm,” Shoko still has that teasing smile. “It’s a hospital, wrecking it won’t leave a good impression,”
“Exactly,” you say. “I’ll be right back,”
You walk up to Satoru and Haibara, greeting them both. Haibara leaves quickly, giving the two of you some space. You haven't spoken to Satoru since that day when everything went wrong. But you hug him for a short moment. He had been an important person in your life, afterall.
“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding,” Satoru playfully complains. “I would’ve been there from the bride’s side. I have that much right, don’t I?”
“Shut up, Satoru,” you tease him back. “What’s with that intense look?” you ask, gesturing to his all black appearance and piercings.
“A musician’s appearance must reflect his pain,” He explains. “Otherwise the music doesn’t sell, you know?”
“I’ve listened to your music, you know.” You admit. “Your latest album is amazing,”
“Does he let you listen to my music?” He asks, nodding to Suguru.
“He secretly listens to it himself,” You chuckle. “But he won’t admit that. Come meet Sugu now, come on.”
“Na-ahn,” Satoru shakes his head. “You married him and are showing your authority over me. That's not how it works,”
Suguru’s outside, texting on his phone when you find him. “It’s been ten years now, Sugu,” you try to reason with him. He pockets his phone with a sigh at your words. “What’s to lose by saying a little hello?”
“He shrieks in his songs, he can come say hello too,” Suguru counters with his soft voice. 
“You’re an investment banker Sugu, not a child,” You try to convince him, placing your hand on his arm.
“And you’re my wife, darling,” He says, his eyes kind as he looks down at you. “Not your ex boyfriend’s lawyer.”
“Ex boyfriend’s lawyer, where did that come from?” You say, brows creased and nose scrunched up.
“I saw you hug him,” He counters, making you sigh. “Feeling affectionate?”
“That’s disgusting Sugu, come on,” you drawl.
“What else were you expecting?” Satoru’s taunting voice suddenly interrupts you. “He has billions in his bank but the class of a penny,”
“What did you do with your high class, huh?” Suguru snaps back, but his voice is still a model of serene calm. “You’re playing that guitar like a courtesan in front of an audience,”
“But I give great hugs,” Satoru says, turning to you with a raised brow. “Right?”
That breaks Suguru’s calm facade. He menacingly steps between you and Satoru asserting, “Bastard, mind your mouth. You’re speaking to my wife.”
“She was my girlfriend that day when you kissed her,” Satoru angrily snaps, pushing him back. Suguru punches his face, the martial arts expertise not left too behind with his stock market capabilities. Their fist-fight out in the hospital’s garden has your friends gathering, with Nanami and Haibara rushing to pull them apart at your request, only for Shoko to stop them.
“Don’t,” She says. “It’s an anger of ten years, let them get it out.”
A moment later, Suguru has Satoru's face bruised and pinned to the ground, yelling right in his face, “Why are you so angry, Satoru? It’s not just because of my darling wife,” Satoru’s red face is an angry grimace, wincing in pain. “You didn’t even love her. Then why this anger?!”
Satoru pushes Suguru off himself, standing up and pointing his finger to him accusatory. “You deliberately let yourself lose that day!” He yells, white hair flying in all directions. His mind flashes back to the triathlon from ten years ago. “Why did you do that?” He pushes Suguru, emphasising his point. “Why?!”
“Because your father was a nasty, twisted man!” Suguru answers with a yell. “He was rejoicing seeing you lose, he was wishing me luck to defeat you.” Suguru confesses, retying his messed up hair. “I wanted to be like your father, but even I couldn’t be this twisted. I thought,” Satoru’s blue eyes have lost all that electric rage, leaving behind teared up eyes on realisation. “In that moment, I realised that I could defeat the most powerful man of the country by making you win,” He inhales a deep breath before continuing. “My dad was dead, Satoru, but yours wasn’t a dad either.”
“I dealt with my dad when I left him and his name,” Satoru says, his shove gentle now. “I didn’t need your nobility,”
Suguru shakes his hand, chuckling at his ironic statement. “Nobility, wow!” He incredulously says. “What about that drama you pulled off on the stage? Huh? What the hell was that?” Suguru’s brow is creased and he’s poking at Satoru’s chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “If you knew everything that day, why didn’t you say anything in front of everyone? In front of you dad?” He answers his question himself, “Because you wanted to show to your father that you actually won,”
Satoru throws a punch at that, and Suguru returns a harder one, busting his lip. “Don’t hit my face so hard!” Satoru complains, holding his large hand against his busted lip. 
“Bloody loser,” Suguru mumbles under his breath, wiping the blood on his knuckle and feeling his bruised cheekbone.
“Hey! Who are you calling a loser?” Satoru gets defensive. It’s a true comedy - how fast their fight boiled over and turned childish. “All last five of my albums have been platinum hits,”
“So what?” Suguru competes as well. “My banking business has a turnover of 500 million,”
“International music labels chase me!” Satoru claims. (it's the truth)
“Companies beg me for mergers,” Suguru claims (also the truth)
“When I perform, Wembley shakes,” Satoru yells.
“One snap of my fingers shakes the stock market,” Suguru claims.
“I’ve been with a hundred women-” Satoru says, forgetting himself in the heat of the moment.
“And I have my darling wife-” Suguru says, not hearing Satoru. “Wait what? A hundred, really?” He asks in his calm voice with his brows raised, eyeing him.
“Yeah, plus or minus ten,” Satoru has calmed down as well, but he is terribly embarrassed at his admission. 
“Plus or minus?” Suguru asks.
“Probably minus,” Satoru admits.
They both burst out laughing - it starts with a smile, going to a chuckle then a full blown laughter. “You haven’t changed a bit, you bastard.” Suguru decides.
Quieting down for a moment, they assess the damage, when Satoru slowly turns to his friend. “Are you about to kiss me right now?” Suguru teases.
“I won’t even hug you, motherfucker,” Satoru says as they hug.
Dean Yaga dies with people he cared about surrounding him, happy to see that Suguru and Satoru have rekindled their friendship. Their broken bond weighed heavy on his heart, and he passed peacefully on seeing his old students back together. Satoru and Suguru are back at Saint Teresa’s campus, this time as alumni - there to show students to follow their hearts and maintain their friendships instead of seeing them as competition.
A/N: it took me nearly two weeks to complete and the last 7k words i wrote in one sitting, my hands were numb but we finished it and i've proofread it once (please ignore any errors) special shoutout to my desi girlies here, we've all wanted to be shanaya at one point lmao. I hope ya'll enjoyed it because it was fun writing this hehe. Also the reason I have Satoru or Suguru first is because here in india we address each other by first names for the most part
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junniieesbby · 8 months
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Where The Fuck Are They? |Choi Yeonjun
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Pairing: Idol Yeonjun x F!reader
Genre: Established Relationship, Smut, Kind of Fluff. 
WC:  1.6K 
Rating: 18+ MDNI 
Summary: You try to tease your idol boyfriend at a music Festival by leaving your panties in his pocket. Only he gets angry when he finds out and your plan backfires on you and he does all the teasing. 
Warning: Mentions of alcohol, and food. Smut with a plot.  Lots of pet names (baby, good girl, princess, pretty), slight Brat/Brat-tamer. Calling Yeonjun Sir. Ass grabbing.Female getting fingered. Slight Edging. Hickies, somewhat of agoraphilia except its just fingering in a public place. Mentions of fucking.Degradation. Mentions of oral (Female receiving). I think that is about it. I don't know if I missed any. Let me know if I did!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned in this fiction represents any of the characters.
A/N: Have had this thought written down since the Lollapalooza and finally got around to writing it and posting it. This is also part of @majestyjun's 24 days with yeonjun birthday event! 💗I hope you guys enjoy reading this and thank you to all who were interested in it prior I made sure to tag you. 🫶🏼
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Music festivals were always something you looked forward to attending. This year was extra special because your boyfriend would be performing as a headliner at one of the biggest music festivals, Lollapalooza. To say you were proud was an understatement; you were so happy to see him achieve all his goals and reach his dreams one day at a time. To watch him perform at Lollapalooza last year and to see that he would be headlining this year really made you the proudest girlfriend.
The festival grounds were alive with all the excitement, vibrant colors, the aroma of festival food, and, of course, the smell of booze. Yeonjun and you have decided to enjoy the festival and see Kendrick Lamar's performance. You were wearing a short skirt with a white crop top, your red heart chucks converse, black choker, and jewelry. Underneath all of that, you had put on Yeonjun’s favorite lingerie set.
As you are walking around holding hands with your boyfriend, you have a very risky and exciting idea, but you aren’t sure whether to go through with it. After some time, you decided to just do it and see where this crazy thought of yours would lead you. You went on your tippy toes to kiss Yeonjun on the cheek, letting him know you would be using the bathroom. His face kind of scrunched up in confusion because he knew you hated public restrooms, especially festival ones, but didn’t pay much attention to it. Little did he know that all you wanted to do was put your plan into action. You stepped into the bathroom and wanted to do this as quickly as possible. You took your lace panties off, scrunched them up, and left the bathroom to find him standing there waiting for you. You went close to him, and he put an arm around your shoulder to lead you through the crowd. You had a habit of placing your hand in his back pocket, and you did exactly that, ensuring your panties were safe in his pocket.
As the sun began to set, Yeonjun took you to the stage where Kenderick Lamar would be performing. "Are you excited to see his performance, baby?" He whispers in your ear while bringing his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest, and resting his chin on your shoulder. "I am excited, but I’m more excited to see your performance. I know you will rock your performance like always." You tell him while turning your head and leaving a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, baby. I know I can do anything with you in the crowd." He squeezes the hold he has on you tighter, showing his affection through his touch.
The whole time you were watching the performance, you were playing with your shoe laces to get them to untie so you could move your plan along. Once it got really dark outside and everyone was too busy enjoying the performance and their alcohol, you knew it was now or never. Your shoelace was successfully untied. “Jjun, my shoelace is untied; could you tie it for me, please? My skirt is kind of short. Otherwise, I would do it myself." You whisper in his ear. “Sure, baby, anything for you." He moves in front of you and goes on his knee to tie your shoe. As he finishes and gets up, he glances over to see your pussy out in the open. The only thing covering it was your short skirt.
He didn’t want to make anything noticeable, so he got up and went into the same position he was in earlier, with his hands around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck. He left a kiss right below your earlobe and whispered "Where are they?" You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you wanted to play dumb. "Where is what, baby?" You asked him with an innocent tone. "Don’t fucking play dumb; where the fuck are your panties?" You loved to get on his nerves. “Oh, those things? Silly me, I think I lost them." You started grinding your ass on his half hard length.
He then held your hips in place so you would no longer grind your ass on him. To him, two could play this game, and he sure as hell wanted to win. "I will ask you one last time, where are your fucking  panties?" He tells you as he gets ahold of one of your cheeks and squeezes it until you let out a yelp. "In your back pocket, Jjunnie, in your back pocket," you quickly tell him. He reached in his pocket and grabbed your panties and gave them to you while whispering, "Put them back on." You could not believe him. "No," you cross your arms, pouting. "Stop being such a brat and put them on," he whispers once again. "No, I don’t feel like it." The moment those words left your mouth, he quickly shoved the panties in his back pocket again. "Alright, you want to act like a brat; prepare to be treated like one." He starts to roam his hands all over your body.
"Mmmh, what will you do about it, sir?" you asked him seductively. He felt his dick twitch in his pants at your name for him. He thought he would just show you what brats like you get and deserve. He knew in no time you would be begging for his cock, which he had every intention of keeping away from you for as long as possible.
He wrapped his left hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, which earned him a soft moan from you. He looked around to see everyone paying attention to the artist before he brought his right hand under your skirt and separated your soaking wet folds. "My whore is really wet for me, isn’t she?" he says, inserting two fingers in while his thumb rubs at your clit. You wanted to say something so bad, but you knew once you spoke, a moan would come out instead, and you didn’t want random people to notice the naughty behavior going around them. To anyone else, you both looked like a couple being cozy together. You thanked alcohol for making everyone around you too buzzed to notice.
His fingers were going painfully slow, and he was sucking hickies into your neck. "Sir, fast- faster, please," you begged him as he continued his slow pace. "Only good girls get what they want." His husky voice makes your arousal expand. You slowly started to grind on his hand, but he knew your motive. He quickly pinches your clit causing you to stop your movement.
He dove his fingers inside of you, this time moving faster than before and you were in true bliss. "Don't make a fuckin sound okay; be my good girl and stay quiet," he continues finger-fucking you. All you did was nod as he increased his pace. You were biting your lip to stop yourself from becoming a moaning mess underneath his touch. You were so close that your walls started to clench around his fingers, and just as you were about to go into a euphoric state, he pulled his fingers out. He grabbed your chin, turned your head to look at him, and put his fingers in his mouth, licking your juices clean.
You were in pure and utter shock that he did not just stop right before you were going to come. You wanted so badly to wipe that smug smile off his face, but you knew you were the reason you were in this state. All you could do was turn in his arms and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. "Sir, why did you stop? I was being a good girl like you asked" you said, looking at him with puppy eyes. "Good girls don’t take their panties off mid-festival and place them in their boyfriend's pocket." He grabs both ass cheeks while looking down at you with a smirk. 
You wanted to tell him he could fuck off, but knowing him, he wouldn’t fuck you for the whole week if you did. "Jjun, please make me feel good again. Please fuck me. I need you so badly." You decided to plead with him. One thing about Yeonjun was that he couldn’t deny his princess anything. Whatever his princess wanted, she would get it. He especially couldn't tell her no when she looked at him with such pleading eyes that it made his cock harder than a rock. "How about this princess, You be good for the rest of the festival, and Sir will fuck your brains out how you like. I will fuck you so good that you might need me to carry you for the next few days. Maybe eat that sweet pussy of yours until you come all over my mouth. Just be my good, pretty girl for a little longer so I can reward you. Mmm, how does that sound? '' He started stroking your ass while looking at you with lust and hunger.
"I would love that very much, baby." You stand on your tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips. With him being hard and impatient, it didn't take long for him to just grab you, take you back to the hotel room, and fuck you into next week.
Taglist: @hanniejie @boba-beom @lovejoshua @yo-yo-yeonjun @ttyunz @choistick @kazscara @love-be0m @xenkimmie @toiletfeet68 @txt-yaomi @mochijjunie @ariam-96 @hyukasbestie @takemehye @nightlytyuns and @robin-obsessed @baljinciaga (I thought you might want to see this) ♥︎
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if you are reading this look at my last # for a little something!
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sebsbarnes · 4 months
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hey love, hope u r doing ok ❤️ i wanted to request a tan x reader where she’s interacting with another guy in a mission (in any way you’d like tbh) and tangerine gets SUPER jealous
it’s kinda like “jealousy” that u already wrote but where the reader makes him jealous this time (i’ve been obsessed with the song u belong to me by the weeknd lately and it’s doing things to me 😭)
hiii i hope you are well also and enjoy this! i am a sucker for jealous tropes i cant even lie so this is perfect
seduction || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
warnings: none i believe, making the other person jealous
word count: 1.8k+
masterlist
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"in and out, okay. i don't want to be here longer than we have to be," tangerine grumbled, fixing the cuffs to his dress shirt.
"why? it's my time to play. i'll take as long as i want," you taunted, throwing tangerine a look over your shoulder and you couldn't help but look him up and down.
tangerine narrowed his eyes at you and though you were no longer facing him, you could see him standing behind you in the large mirror, "we don't want our cover to be blown."
you laughed at the statement, "when do we ever get caught."
tangerine left the room huffing under his breath and you observed yourself in the mirror once more before grabbing your purse. realistically you knew you shouldn't spend so much time trying to pry information out of the man who held the information you, tangerine, and lemon needed, but you knew you could flirt it out of him and that would anger tangerine. so, what's the harm, right? call it cruel, or whatever you want, but tangerine would constantly get possessive or angry when you got a bit too close to other men, but tangerine has never once made a move so what right does he have to get angry.
the air in the car ride over to the gala was tense. all lemon could do was give you and tangerine quizzical looks but refused to ask any questions assuming it was one of your stupid banters. the suv came to a stop outside of the beautiful mansion and the three of you slid out of the car. butlers opened the large glass doors and you were met with beautiful piano music, hundreds of people wandering about, and gold everything.
you adjusted the faux fur scarf that was draped over your shoulders, "i'll see you boys later," you winked at lemon and tangerine before sauntering off, heels clicking as you left.
tangerine pinched the bridge of his nose. 'in and out' he kept internally repeating to himself. lemon nodded his head to tangerine and they followed behind you.
you slinked through the crowd heading for the elevated platform where the man garrett was standing chatting to a group of men who were appeasing his ego and laughing at the pitiful jokes he cracked. you sauntered over to the small table that was next to the group of men and slowly leaned down to grab a drink. you made sure your back was slightly arched, hips dangerously high in the air as you refused to break eye contact with the man who noticed you. garrett swished the brown liquor around in his glass clearly intrigued by you. your eyes raked down his body and your painted lips offered him a smirk. before you turned on your heel you flicked your eyes up to the staircase where a fuming tangerine was staring daggers into you. though you couldn't see it from here tangerine was gripping the railing so hard that it shook. satisfied with the attention from both men, you walked away.
"relax mate," lemon laughed noticing the way tangerine's hands turned white. tangerine glanced at his brother before dropping the railing.
"c'mon she's out of sight."
it was merely a minute later when you felt the gentle tap on your shoulder. spinning around you feigned ignorance at the man.
"i don't mean to bother you, but i wanted to let you know i think you are beautiful," garrett spoke, his eyes briefly looking at your chest as you dropped the scarf to your elbows, exposing the skin to him.
you leaned into him a bit and placed a gentle hand on his forearm, "what's your name, handsome?"
"garrett."
you brought the martini glass to your mouth, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip to remove the drop of vodka.
"garrett," you drawled, "how about we dance?"
tangerine watched from a distance as the man guided you toward the edge of the dance floor. his arms hooked themselves tightly onto your waist and you situated yourself on his shoulders. tangerine's eye twitched as he watched your fingers play with the man's curly hair at the base of his neck. that should be me. he watched the two of you sway back and forth and the deeper you got into conversation, garrett's hand inched its way lower and lower on your back. tangerine felt bile rise up into his throat.
you were working info out of garrett about his uncle and though he seemed like a bit of a fool he wasn't falling into your seduction too easily. he was giving only tidbits of information out at a time and you were internally yelling at the man, begging him to just give it all up so you can stop caressing his body. you threw your head backwards in laughter at some lame joke he made and toyed with the buttons on his open shirt.
"if i laugh anymore i may pop out of this dress," you joked, playfully tapping fake tears off your face.
the emotion in his eyes changed, "that wouldn't be a bad thing now would it, love?"
the way he said love made you cringe. it was forceful and unnatural, much different from the way it would roll off tangerine's tongue. you tried to suppress the grimace on your face and opted to run a finger down his chest and stomach until you hooked it around his belt loop.
you leaned forward to his ear, lips grazing his skin, "there's nothing under this dress."
garrett gripped you tight so your bodies were flushed together. you did everything in your power to not squirm when you felt his fingernails in your skin and the low growl deep in his throat.
"my uncle's room is right down the hall behind me," he breathed into your neck. your eyes flickered to the hallway and you noticed tangerine standing against the wall with a careful eye.
"it would be rude of us to dirty up his room while he's here," you whispered back with hooded eyes.
"he isn't here. he'd never know." the desperate man before you pressed.
"i don't think they'd be able to clean the mess we'd make before he came back," your lips were centimeters away from his.
he brought his hand from your waist to your hair and roughly tugged at it causing your head to jerk upwards, "he's away in the states. at some banquet in new york city at the ritz. he's not coming back for two weeks."
ah, he made it too easy for you. you pondered if you should entertain him and follow him to the bedroom and see if you could pry more info out of him, but this is what you needed and truth be told you wanted to be out of his grip. though you hummed in content and turned your face to press a kiss to his jaw. in your peripheral you saw movement, it was tangerine glaring you down. the look on his face was one you didn't recognize. it was a concoction of emotions but the more evident one was disappointment.
"i need air," tangerine gasped to lemon who had just stood beside the man. you watched as tangerine hurried his way through the crowd and out the door to the balcony. the features on your face pulled together in confusion till you realized you were still wrapped in garrett's arms.
"i'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," you whispered seductively trailing your finger across his bottom lip. garrett didn't move after you retreated away from the dance floor and to the balcony.
tangerine was leaning over the cement railing looking into the garden. his back was rising and falling rapidly, the fabric of his suit slightly constricting the movement. tangerine could hear the clicks of your heels approaching but didn't turn to face you.
you hesitated before speaking, sensing he wasn't in a good mood, "i... i got the information we needed. we can uh- leave now."
he didn't respond so you carefully placed your palm on his back and ran it down his spine. he jerked upright and ignored the sensation your hand on his body produced. he stared you down and you felt so small under his gaze. it was intense and unwavering and his eyes seemed so blue right now.
"what's wrong," you asked in a small voice, crossing your arms tighter under your chest.
he let out a laugh in disbelief, "oh! i don't know darlin' how about your lil performance out there."
"like you haven't done the same or worse, tangerine. besides, i got what we needed," you hissed. your words so venomous you could feel it burning at your tongue. all he did was roll his eyes and start to walk back inside the mansion. you gripped his wrist, yanking him to face you.
"you don't walk away from me."
your brain couldn't work fast enough to catch up with the fact tangerine's mouth was now on yours. the way his lips pressed against yours felt so foreign yet it worked, like his lips should've been kissing you every day and every night and they should never leave until the last shred of air burned at your lungs. and that's what was happening as the sun in the horizon glowed orange onto your skin. tangerine kissed you like it was his final act on this earth. his one hand was flat against your spine bringing your body as close as humanly possible to him with his other hand cupping your cheek. you were gripping his black suit jacket with such vigor your fingers almost poked holes into the fabric.
not a care in the world as your lips interlocked with each other, tongues occasionally escaping their way into the other's mouth. exasperated breaths could be heard from the brief seconds you allowed yourself to part before reconnecting with clashing teeth. the lipstick on your lips had now painted a picture on tangerine's face but you loved it and if you had it your way you'd force him to walk back into the house covered in your mark.
you and tangerine finally re-entered reality to a now dark sky. the kiss happened in slow motion but the sky around you spoke otherwise. with one final kiss tangerine gently bit at your bottom lip and ran his fingers through your hair.
"i'm tired of pretending that i don't like you," he murmured, placing his forehead against your own.
"why does it take me talking to another guy for you to finally confess," you asked genuinely curious.
"'cause i'm a fuckin' idiot, love. it shouldn't take that. i should've told you a long time ago but tonight. seeing- seeing that man touch you," tangerine fumed, his nostrils flaring, "i couldn't take it."
you sighed softly and said, "i'm not innocent in this either, i try and make you jealous on purpose."
tangerine gave you a soft smile and pressed a kiss to your cheek. he didn't care that you did it on purpose. deep down he kind of loved it but he was wrong for being angry at you.
"oh. we should probably leave. garrett has been waiting, i'm sure naked, in his uncle's bed," you laughed, hooking your arm to tangerine's.
"should we kick him out?" tangerine winked.
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oneforthemunny · 1 year
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sinister play |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|
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prompt: how you and rockstar!eddie meet.
reader has the last name klein, just for the purposes of the story.
contains: language, alcohol, drug use, reader and eddie absolutely despise each other and are very mean to each other so prepare for that, degrading, pornography watching, humiliation, spanking, hair pulling, fingering fem receiving, p in v rough sex, choking (light), no aftercare minors dni 18+
Los Angeles, 1991
The bass from the speakers, loud and booming, shaking the club with every riff of the guitar. Whatever band on stage was shredding, desperate fans and wannabe's jumping and shrilling the lyrics to some angry, grunge song you couldn't even understand.
"You want a drink?" Farrah asked over the loud music, leaning in close with a wide, burgundy lipped smile, a little smudged around the corner from the boy she was dancing with earlier.
You nodded, letting her pull you through the crowds, back to the bar in VIP. You weren't even sure why you left your secluded section. You could hear the band just fine from the confined leather couches and private bar upstairs.
"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, lanky, with shaggy locks that he kept tossing or blowing up out of his eyes. He attempted to give you a flirty smile, which you half heartedly returned.
"I want a double shot of vodka, extra limes." You said, slapping the crisp, one hundred-dollar bill on the mahogany wood.
"I'll have another cosmo, please." Farrah giggled to the bartender, batting her eyes sweetly to him.
"Coming right up, ladies." The bartender grinned, pocketing the bill with a sultry wink your way.
"Oh my God," Farrah gasped, grabbing your arm before you could scoff. "Holy shit, ok, don't look, but look, but don't make it obvious, ok-"
"-what?" You huffed, craning your head over your shoulder.
"No! I said don't make it obvious." Farrah squealed, manicured hand pushing your face back towards her. "Do you know who just walked in?"
You frowned. "No, I couldn't see them."
"That's Corroded Coffin." Farrah whispered, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh my God, you know them. You know, they're that rock group? They're kinda nasty, but so fuckin' hot. They have that one song that's about the stripper and-and the cocaine?"
"Wow, that really narrows it down." You scoffed sarcastically, turning to look over your shoulder again.
They certainly looked the rock band part, that was for sure. Five guys, some with Mohawks, shags, all in some sort of black leather, heavily tatted and pierced. Two were even wearing sunglasses, inside the dark club.
You rolled your eyes hard. "Jesus, they look like they're playing fucking dress up." You muttered, nodding to the bartender when he slipped you your drink. "Whoever their stylist is should be fired for that. The most stereotypical garb I've ever seen."
Farrah smirked, thanking the bartender, sitting her pink drink giggly. "I think they look hot." She wiggled her brows at you playfully. "You don't wanna fuck a rockstar?"
You laughed. "I have fucked a rockstar." You gave her a pointed look. "A few, actually, or did you forget?" Farrah giggled. "And so have you Miss Von Abel."
"Yeah, but not a real, rock, rockstar, Miss Klein." Farrah smirked over the lip of her glass. Her eyes bulged, sputtering on her drink. "Holy shit, they're coming over here."
You grimaced. "Ew, no they're not."
"Yes, they are, holy shit, be nice." Farrah muttered, looking down at her glass, sultry and unsuspecting, posed.
You snorted into your drink, downing the rest of it before lifting your glass, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.
"And I'll have what she's having," A voice from behind you purred. You didn't move. "Except make it a tequila. Patron or Casa, I'm not picky."
The chair beside you screeched against the floor, so loud you could hear it over the music. Leather and wild, dark curls clouded the vision in the corner of your eyes, a wolfish grin baring perfect, shiny white teeth.
"Hi, there." The man greeted, a low purr.
You looked over at him, eyeing him up fully. The ripped jeans, band tee, spiked jewelry, and worst of all- leather jacket. You scoffed, he really was a walking cliche.
"Hi," You snipped, bored and unimpressed. You turned to Farrah, watching as she giggled and leaned closer to the other boy, his spiked hair and ringed fingers drumming on the edge of her glass.
"I'm Eddie." The boy next to you said, tongue rolling on the inside of his mouth.
You nodded, sighing slowly. "I didn't ask." You replied coldly, stirring your empty drink with the slim black straw.
Eddie paused, blinking for a moment. He hadn't been ignored and rejected like this since high school, since before he left Hawkins. Treated and casted out like he was nothing, like he was nobody.
His fingers tapped on the bar, angry and furiously, buzzing from the embarrassment and the effects of the cocaine. He looked back over at you, squinting in the low light.
"I know you." Eddie said, pointing a finger at you.
"No, you don't." You huffed, rolling your eyes.
"No, I do." Eddie shook his head, feet tapping on the floor. "How do I know you? Fuck, you're not friends with Aria are you?"
"No." You snapped, irritated.
Eddie twisted his lips in thought, running a hand down his face. "Fuck, I know I know you." He huffed, leaning past you. "Gare, why do I know this chick?" He asked, hitching his thumb towards you.
You scoffed, nose snarling in disgust. Farrah grimaced, looking at you with a pleading look. Gareth looked at you, tilting his head to the side. "You're Victor Klein's daughter, right?"
"Yeah, that's her." Farrah grinned, wide eyed and giggly. "How did you know that?"
Eddie's ringed hand slapped down on the bar loudly, making you jump. He snapped his finger, and pointed at you. "That's fucking right. Your dad's that movie guy. Makes all those movies, holy shit." Eddie laughed, looking up at you with a dimpled grin. It made you flush slightly, but your face remained neutral, soured. "And your mom was that model for Playboy back in the day? That super hot one."
Eddie's eyes rolled over you, taking in your black, slip dress, short and low in all the right places, straight off the Versace runway. He licked his lips, eyes gleaming when he looked at you. "I can tell you two are related." He grinned, hand slipping on your thigh.
"Ugh," You groaned, shoving his hand off. You grabbed your drink just as the bartender sat it down, standing up from your high top seat. "Farrah, I'll be outside. I need a smoke."
Eddie tried not to falter, not letting his face fall at the rejection, at how you brushed him off and discarded him like he was nothing. He wasn't used to this, to women ignoring him rather than throwing themselves at him. He was Eddie fucking Munson, rockstar with a notable ten inch cock that anyone would be lucky to fuck.
"Shit, I could go for a smoke too, baby. Let me-"
"Look, I don't know if you're too coked out or just really fucking stupid, but I'm not interested in being seen with a C-list rockstar poser." You snapped, teeth bared and angry at him.
"C-List?" Eddie gawked, scoffing in offense. "Excuse me, sweetheart, do you know who the fuck I am?" Eddie growled, ringed hand shoved in his chest.
"No," You snarled smugly, eyes narrowed dangerously towards him. "But you certainly know who I am."
Eddie scoffed when you walked away, heels snapping and clacking across the floor all the way to the balcony outside. He grit his teeth, inked hand fisting the glass, throwing back the tequila in one gulp, grimacing gently at the burn in his throat and nose.
He turned to Farrah, lips pursed furiously. "Your friend always such a fucking bitch?" He growled.
Gareth threw his hands out, head nodding suggestively towards Farrah. She didn't seem to be phased, you'd certainly been called worse. "She's really nice, actually. One of the sweetest people you'll ever meet." She paused, lips twisting in thought. "If she likes you." Her eyes flashed to Eddie with a slight grimace. "She doesn't like you."
Eddie scoffed, shoving his chair back. "Yeah, well, fuck her too." He growled, stomping off to the bathroom, fishing in his pockets for the small baggie of coke.
***
You took a long drag of your cigarette, balancing your drink in the other hand, pressed up against the railing of the night club, chatting with Arnie Brandenburg, a long time friend. The two of you had grown up in Beverly Hills together, down the street. Your moms went to the same Jane Fonda fitness classes, always leaving you two in the country club nursery.
"I mean, Greenwich is nice for Connecticut, but it's just not the Hamptons, ya know?" Arnie grinned.
You laughed, nodding in agreement. "Honestly, you sound like my mother." You rolled your eyes. "Daddy talked about selling the Hamptons house once since it's on the East Coast, and she about died. Wouldn't talk to him for a week." You snickered, shaking your head.
"I would too!" Arnie threw his hands out dramatically. "I mean, if you're not going to the Hamptons in the summertime, then what are you doing? Imagine celebrating the Fourth of July anywhere else, it would be a crime-"
"Jesus fuckin' Christ." A voice over your shoulder groaned.
You turned, angrily and fierce, ready to lash at whoever dared to interrupt you. You were less than surprised to see it was Eddie. He shook his head, forearms leaning over the rail, smoking his own cigarette slowly.
"Excuse me?" You snapped, eyes narrowed in challenge.
Eddie looked up at you, unimpressed and unfazed. "The two of you sound so fuckin' shallow, holy shit." Eddie scoffed, shaking his head.
You gawked as Arnie blushed furiously, looking down at his drink in embarrassment. "We were having a private conversation-"
"-yeah? That why you're talkin' so loud?" Eddie shot back, teeth grit in challenge. "Private conversation, so you talk loud enough for everyone to hear you, right? Make sure they all know that you two are loaded, so much better than anyone else, right?"
You huffed, turning on your heel, jaw tight. You were flushing furiously, heat spreading from the fire in the pit of your belly up your chest and neck. "Don't pay attention to him, Arnie. He's pissed I wouldn't suck his dick at the bar." You snipped, loud enough for Eddie to hear.
Arnie hesitated, eyes flickering from you back to Eddie. Eddie laughed loudly, humorlessly. "Holy shit," He shook his head. "You know, it makes sense why you're such a bitch, honestly. Probably never been told no a day in your fucking life."
You whipped around, drink sloshing and spilling down your wrist from the sudden movement. "What the fuck did you just call me?"
Eddie pulled a mocking, pouting face your way. "Oh, you didn't like that, huh?" He taunted. "Sorry, Princess, didn't mean to upset you. I forgot, girls like you can't handle being told the truth."
"The truth?" You scoffed. "I can handle the truth, what I can't handle is losers like you trying to hit on me like you ever had a chance."
"Oh? Because I'm not from the Hills?" Eddie retaliated, defensively, insecurity seeping through his barred teeth.
"No, because you're such a fake." You laughed mockingly back at him, eyes rolling down his frame. It was a juvenile, mean tactic, but you didn't care. It worked, judging by the way he squirmed and moved to straighten his posture. "You dress like this pathetic cliche, hit on girls all the time, treat them like shit and do shit to keep you in the tabloids, and guess what? In a few years, you'll be irrelevant anyways. You'll peak, and you'll go back to Ohio or wherever the fuck you're from, and I'll still be here, watching the next you try to hit on me."
Eddie's face dropped, stunned and a little hurt. Arnie pulled your arm, saying your name softly to get you to step away, but you refused. Too angry and determined to get him away for good.
"Who the fuck do you think you are exactly?" Eddie snapped back. "I mean, you're only relevant because of who your daddy is." He scoffed, snarling back at you. "Seriously, Princess, you swear you're someone special, but you wouldn't be anything without that last name. I might be whatever you want to call me, but I'm me. I made my own fucking name, didn't get anything handed to me. I did it myself. Can you say the same?"
You blushed furiously, stammering under his intense glare. Eddie took a step closer, crowding you. "What happens when daddy goes away, huh? When you don't have anything to cling to because you're nothing on your own? What then? What happens to this high and mighty attitude when your one claim to fame is gone, and everyone forgets you."
"That-That won't-"
"-Won't happen?" Eddie laughed menacingly at you. "Sweetheart, you're in for a big surprise then. You don't do shit. You've never worked for a goddam thing in your life. Daddy made sure of that, didn't he?"
You blushed furiously, lips pressing together in anger. "You don't know anything about me."
"No?" Eddie's brows lifted in amusement. "But you certainly know a lot about me." He hissed, throwing your words from earlier right back in your face, making you shrink. "You must know more than you pretend to know about me. Or do you just say shit like that to anyone? Just mean for fun, huh? I'm a walking cliche? Baby, you couldn't get more predictable if you tried." Eddie sneered, leaning down so his face was inches away from yours.
The heat from the two of you was radiating, burning each other further and further with every sneer and venom filled word. Arnie pulled you away with a slight tug of your arm, ushering you away from your hate filled stare and back towards the club.
***
"Who the fuck does that guy think he is, huh?" You slurred, slamming your glass back onto the mahogany top of the bar. Your vision was swirling slightly, the alcohol in your system flooding over your senses easily.
You looked at Arnie, then back over at Farrah, who was sitting perched in Gareth's lap. "Hon, don't worry about it. He's a dick, don't you know that?" Arnie scoffed. "Honestly, did you see what he did to that poor girl? All of them really. He humiliates them for fun."
You had seen what he did to those girls. Fucking them on balconies, tatting their ass, paddling them with a wood paddle that left the band's logo on their red, inflamed cheeks, then letting them walk out so the paparazzi went wild. You had to admit, it was pretty good press. His stylist might have been shit, but his PR person you needed to meet.
The first time you'd seen them on the cover of a gossip column magazine, you couldn't help but stare. The sheer taboo nature of it all, filthy and wrong. It made your thighs twitch. You'd tried to convince your 'boyfriend' of the time to try something like that with you, but he'd called you weird, mocked you for wanting to try it. You'd blamed it on the coke, and never talked of it again.
Maybe he did intimidate you. Maybe he even intrigued you a little, but you refused to allow it, hatred and loathing consuming any feelings of curiosity towards the asshole that was Eddie Munson.
Eddie had a girl in his lap, in the booth on the other side of the bar. You could see it perfectly from your own seat, his lips on her neck, sucking in deep, dark bruises. His hand up her skirt, teasing her so she writhed and bucked all over his lap, sloppy and desperate. His eyes met yours, and you scoffed, slamming back another shot.
Farrah called your name, giggly and stumbling towards you, wrapping her arms around you. "I need a favor," She whispered into your ear.
"What?" You snapped, harder than you meant it to. It'd been a long night.
Farrah pressed her nose to yours, eyes crossing to focus on yours. You could smell the vodka on her breath, sharp and stinging. "I'm gonna go back to Gareth's place for a while. He said he'd give me a tour." She giggled, swaying slightly.
"Ok?" You asked, lifting a brow, her hands planted firmly on your cheeks.
"Come with me, please." Farrah whispered. "Just for a little while, then-then we can go back home, I promise."
You groaned, pulling apart. "I don't want to go to his place-"
"-please! It's just for a teeny, tiny, little bit." Farrah pressed her fingers together for show. "Just so he can... show me around."
You gave her an unimpressed look. "So you two can fuck?" You asked.
Farrah giggled wildly, tossing her head back. "Maybe..." She let out a nasally laugh, swaying back and forth. "Please? For me?"
You hesitated, looking at her then cutting behind her to see Eddie, still working the girl in his lap. "Fine. Let me get one more drink and close out." You grumbled.
Farrah hugged you tightly, strawberry glossed lips pressing a sticky, wet kiss to your cheek before scampering back to Gareth. You waved the bartender down for another, downing the vodka easily before handing him a wad of cash to cover your tab and a tip.
You hugged Arnie goodbye, waving to your other friends before following Farrah down the steps, towards the private exit of the VIP. She giggled and swung on Gareth's arm, flirty and sweet. You watched her carefully, arms crossing over your chest when you got outside, following him towards the large, black car waiting with the rest.
"After you, M'lady." Gareth bowed sillily, making Farrah cackled, a stumble curtsy given back in return. You nodded gently when you climbed past him, moving to the farthest seat on the rounded lounge area.
The door opened again, Eddie and another member of the band filing in. You scoffed. "Oh, fuck me," You groaned, rolling your head back.
"What?" Farrah asked, eyes blinking innocently towards you. "What's wrong?"
"Who the fuck invited her?" Eddie snapped, throwing an arm out towards you.
"I did, Ed." Gareth hissed, eyes cutting to Farrah next to him. "Shut the fuck up."
You smirked triumphantly when Eddie sank in the seat across from you, huffing and rolling his eyes. The car ride back to their place was painfully awkward. Gareth and Farrah were wrapped up in their own little world, giggling and whispering sweetly to each other.
Jeff, the other member in the car, had tried to speak to you. You tried not to let your irritation get the best of you, but alcohol mixed with the sour taste you had for Eddie weren't doing you any favors.
"Give it up, Jeff, I told you she was just gonna be an asshole." Eddie grumbled when you'd gave Jeff another short, choppy answer.
You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I'm the asshole, huh?" You scoffed.
Jeff hesitated looking between the two of you. "It's cool, really." He said sweetly, giving you a small smile.
You felt your stomach twist in guilt, bile rising in your throat as your heart hammered. He really was a sweet guy, just trying to be nice. "So," You started awkwardly, looking over at him. "Where are you from?"
"Somewhere you've never heard of." Jeff smiled, shaking his head. "Hawkins, Indiana."
You smiled back. "You're right. Never heard of it."
Jeff laughed. "That's alright. No one has." He shrugged. "All three of us are from there actually. Met in high school."
You bit back the sharp comment on your tongue directed towards Eddie, swallowing it down bitterly. You didn't want to prove his point anymore than you already did tonight.
"Wow," You nodded, giving a forced, dazzling smile that only a Hollywood native could give. "Must be really different being here now. Big change?"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah, it was an adjustment. Traffic was the worst." He grinned when he hit Gareth's shoulder. "Gare, remember when we first came out here and Eddie got stuck on the 305?"
Both boys growled in laughter while Eddie rolled his eyes. "Christ, we almost missed our first record meeting. Almost got cut before we ever started."
Your eyes flashed to Eddie's, a sneer like grin on your lips. "Shocking." You bit sarcastically, raising your brows.
Eddie rolled his eyes, scoffing at you. "Yeah, well, I figured it out, didn't I?" Eddie gave a tight lipped smile to the boys. "You gotta figure stuff out on your own sometimes, ya know? Shit just can't be done for you or you never learn."
You scoffed loudly, throwing your hand up. "I mean, and I'm the asshole? You had the audacity to call me the asshole?"
"Alright, let's just- let's calm down." Farrah glared at you, lifting her hands between you and Eddie.
"Yeah, Ed, take it easy." Gareth grit, eyes narrowing towards him.
You both rolled your eyes, arms crossing and huffing before looking out the window.
The gates to the Hidden Hills mansion the boys had opened, large and elaborate. The car pulled to the front, Jeff tipping the driver and wishing him a good night as you all piled out.
Gareth droned on and on about the house, the special features it had to Farrah, who giggled and awed- like she didn't grow up in a house triple the size of this. You bit back that comment and followed, heels clacking against the floor, bored.
Eddie had disappeared a while ago, something about needing a joint. Gareth offered to show Farrah his room, and they were gone. Leaving you standing there, waiting.
"Uh, there's a movie room up the stairs if you wanna go in there." Jeff offered with a small smile. "You can wait there if you want. Or-Or you can stay here."
You shook your head. "I'll go wait upstairs. I think they'll be a while." You rolled your eyes.
Jeff laughed. "It's to the right, down the hall, first room on the left." He pointed up the staircase.
You climbed the spiraling stairs, taking in the odd decor of the house. There was a lot of paintings of dragons, very epic and mystical, not quite the decor you thought the metal band would have. You turned down the dark hallway, tiptoeing quietly past the rooms in case someone was sleeping.
You could hear the muffled sound of something playing in the movie room, muted against the heavy doors of the room, but you didn't hear any other signs of life as you pushed them open. The screen was large, illuminating the room and the rows of leather, recliner chairs in it. You closed the door quietly behind you, tip toeing towards the screen.
Your brows furrowed deep in confusion, swaying on your feet as you watched the film that was playing. A rather burly, muscular man grabbed the girl by her hair, pulling her close to him roughly. "I think bad girls like you need to be taught a lesson..." He growled. She moaned loud, pornographic and exaggerated.
Your eyes widened, eyes glued on the screen as he tossed her over his raised knee, hand slamming down on her up turned ass while sh yelped dramatically, mewling and whining. You bit your lip, squirming slightly, thighs pressing together at the scene.
"You enjoying yourself?" You jumped, heart thumping into your ears, screeching at the unexpected voice.
Wild curls, dark eyes, and a menacing smirk met your gaze when you turned. Eddie, sitting in the back row in the dark.
"What the fuck?" You grabbed at your heart. "What-What are you doing in here-"
"-It's my house." Eddie scoffed, arms extending wide on the back of the seats beside him.
You rolled your eyes. "Jeff told me I could wait in here. I-I didn't think you'd be in here."
"This is my favorite room." Eddie said slowly, jaw still set. "Where I come to relax."
"Well, I'll leave you to it." You scoffed, nodding towards the screen, turning towards the door.
"No, why don't you stay." You could hear his smirk through his tone. "Seemed like you were really enjoying it."
You blushed furiously, caught and embarrassed. You didn't face him. eyes cutting towards the screen, watching the man finger the girl as she was still over his knee, squirming and crying.
"Don't be gross." You bit, hoping you sounded more convincing. "Who watches this kind of stuff?"
"Me," Eddie snorted. "Seems like you do too."
"I do not." You snapped, whipping around to face him, his smug grin. God, you wanted to slap it off his face.
"What are you doing anyways? Researching new ways to hurt your groupies? Get the press talking some more?" You sneered.
Eddie's brow raised, amused. Your heart stuttered. "Oh? I thought you didn't know who I was, hm? To beneath you."
"Well, of course I know about that." You scoffed, rolling your eyes so you didn't have to meet his intense glare. You crossed your arms over your chest, securing yourself. You felt too vulnerable, too seen.
"Yeah?" Eddie asked, shifting so he was leaning towards you. "You know a lot about that, don't you, honey?" You stammered, blushing furiously at him. "How many times you wish that was you?" Eddie asked plainly.
Your throat constricted, tongue feeling stupid and big in your mouth. "W-With you?" You lifted a brow, hoping your menacing stare would distract him from the way your legs shook. "Never."
"Oh, I don't believe that." Eddie purred, standing slowly. A tiger to his prey, slow and calculated. "But fine, not with me. How many times have you thought about that?" He nodded towards the scene behind you, the man fucking the girl hard, hips snapping against her abused ass. You swallowed hard, eyes trained and glazed on the video.
You gasped, body lurching a little when you felt him behind you, looming presence casting over you, but never touching you. "How many times have you thought about someone putting you in your place like that?" Eddie growled, and you fought back a shiver, shoulder's tensing. "Is that why you're so mean all the time? Why you act out and want a reaction, hm? You're just begging for someone to put you in your place, aren't you? Screaming for attention."
His fingers trailed lightly over your hip down towards the hem of your dress. You shuddered, exhaling shakily as you watched his inked fingers toy with the edge of the black material. Your mind screamed to stop him, to shove him off and tell him to go fuck himself. But the throbbing between your legs superseded any protest you had, letting him ghost over you.
"That's why you wear these little dresses. You go out, and start fights with these guys hoping they'll actually fight back with you, don't you?" Eddie growled, fingers trailing over your bare thigh, inching dangerously close to your center.
You bit your lip, refusing to look at him, to answer. "You want attention?" Eddie asked, his breath hot on your ear. "I'll give you that attention you want so badly. All you gotta do is ask."
You whined, his fingers feather light, teasing over your slit. You knew he had to feel how wet you were, the growing wet patch on the front of your lace panties. You squirmed into his touch.
"Go on," Eddie grunted, fingers trailing up and down your clothed slit, you throbbed, ached for the touch. "Ask me to put you in your place."
You sighed, shaky and breathy. Your eyes were trained on the screen, refusing to meet his, watching the way the man pounded the girl from a new position. "You talk a big game for someone who will probably only last a few minutes." You shuddered, mean and bratty, a furious gleam back in your eye.
Eddie scoffed. He pulled his hand away entirely, leaving your gasping at the loss. "Guess you'll never find out." He whispered, lips tickling the shell of your ear.
You watched him walk towards the door, heart pounding in your chest when he reached for the door knob. "Wait!" You cried, biting down on your lip hard.
Eddie turned slightly, brow raised. You hesitated, squirming and eyes flicking from the screen back to him. "I-I want it." You admitted, cheeks burning red. Eddie could see it in the glow from the screen.
He lifted a brow, hand falling from the knob to cross over his chest. He stared hard at you, down the slop of his nose. "Want what?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. The bastard. "You gotta use your words. C'mon, baby, you had no problem using them earlier." He snapped.
You fidgeted, swaying on your feet. You couldn't look at him, too humiliated. "I-I want you to put me in my place." You whispered, speaking down the the dark, shag carpet of the room.
"Louder." Eddie commanded, snapping his fingers at you. "And look at me when you speak to me."
A cold shiver ran down your spine. Excitement and anticipation twisting in your tummy. You lifted your gaze slowly, fingers still wringing and twisting when you met his dark, brown eyes. "I-I want you to... to put me in my place."
Eddie exhaled slowly out of his nose, heavy steps coming towards you until the two of you were toe to toe. He towered over you, looking down at you with a hard, stoic expression. "This is what you really want?" Eddie asked. "Want me to teach you how to behave? I'll warn you now, I'm not nice. Not gonna go easy on you."
You nodded slowly, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie cocked his head to the side, signaling he wanted a verbal answer. "Y-Yes... It's what I want." You huffed, crossing your arms back over your chest.
Eddie smirked, a barely raised corner of his lip. "Fine." He grunted. "It'll be my pleasure, actually. I've never met someone who needed to be knocked down a few pegs more in my life." He grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the first recliner. He sat down with a heavy sigh, yanking you in between his spread thighs. "And if smacking you around a little will be you to be less of a little bitch," He sneered up at you, making you squirm. "Then, I guess I'll do the honors."
You rolled your eyes, with a small scoff before his large hand cracked down on your ass, making you gasp. Eddie gave you a hard glare. You squirmed, thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction. His hit stung, but it left you aching, slick coating your thighs.
"You want to stop, you say 'bats' and we stop." Eddie said, hands pulling at your dress.
"Bats? That's a fuckin' stupid-" Another resounding smack of his ringed hand to your ass had you yelping out, stopping and looking at him.
"Oh, this is gonna take a lot more than I thought." Eddie shook his curls, pulling the tie of the dress so it fell down your hips slowly, in a puddle by your feet. You stood in nothing but a bright red thong. "You're worse off than I thought. Might need multiple sessions to fix this bad attitude."
You snarled. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" You bit.
Eddie hummed, fingers hooking down your panties, pulling them down your thighs so they rested at your mid-thigh. He pressed his fingers into the soaked front of your cloth, smearing your sticky release down the crotch until it was coated on his finger. He brought it up to your face, eyes hard in challenge.
"Seems like you're not having a bad time either." Eddie snapped. You blushed hard, hands covering your neck so he couldn't see the flush. "Think you're enjoying this a little too much."
You snarled, but fought the urge to roll your eyes. Eddie pulled down the rest of your panties, letting you step out of them before they were puddled on the floor. He shifted forward, legs spreading before he nodded towards his lap.
You hesitated for a moment, arms reaching out slow and unsteady, awkward as you folded your body forward delicately. His rough, calloused hands pulled you forward, aching center rubbed against his knee, bottom high in the air. Your arms were forward, hanging over the recliner, back dipped between his legs.
"Hm," Eddie sighed heavily, ringed hand running over your cheeks, down your thigh and over your back. You shuddered, head spinning. For a moment, it almost felt gentle.
"I can tell that you and your mama are related." He grinned, squeezing the fat of your ass hard. "Good looking ass on both of ya."
You scoffed loudly. "You’re dis-" You gasped, the hard smack he delivered to the center of your ass sending you forward, breath leaving your lung. The unfamiliar sting burned through the hit, electrifying your senses. You clamped your lips together, rocking slightly against his knee for friction.
"You just never learn, do ya?" Eddie laughed, hand cracking down on your ass, one hit to each cheek that left you yelping out. "That's alright. Keep running that mouth. I can stay here all night."
His hand cracked down on your fleshy ass, hips jumping and body tensing with every hit. You could feel the burn, foreign and unfamiliar, building already. His rings added extra sting to his hits, cold metal digging into your hot skin. You tried to still your hips, keep yourself from grinding helplessly down onto his leg.
“I can tell no one’s ever done this to you before.” Eddie breathed, hand light, almost delicately trailing down your cheeks before he brought his hand down again, twice. Two quick smacks that had you squealing, lurching forward.
“I’ve never met a more spoiled little bitch.” Eddie growled, hand thundering onto your cheeks. You mewled loudly, lips pressed shut to try and stop yourself.
“No one’s ever put you in your place like this before have they?” Eddie hissed, squeezing your burning cheeks hard, enough to make you squirm. His hand cracked down, unforgiving and hard, right near your core. It had you screaming out, abdomen clenching at the sensation. “I asked you a fucking question.”
“No,” You whispered, jaw tight, slow steady breaths coming out of your nose, desperate to keep the tears down.
Eddie huffed, fingers snaking down to your core. You gasped when he slid them through your slick folds. “Hm,” he hummed, mocking. He head his fingers in front of you, ringed digits coated in your arousal, making you blush deep. “Suck.” Eddie barked.
You hesitated for a moment, stunned by his demand. Eddie’s free hand yanked your hair back, scalp screaming at the roughness of his grasp. “I said, suck.”
Your lips parted in a slow tremble, just wide enough to let him slip his fingers in. You hollowed your cheeks barely, letting your tongue slides slowly over his fingers, tasting your own tangy arousal. Eddie’s fingers probed further, pressing back to the back of your throat, scissoring so you’d gag at the intrusion.
You breathed deep, controlled through your nose. Only gagging for a moment, before you let his assault continue. Your eyes were on him, round and hopeful for praise. He lifted a brow. “I’m impressed,” he muttered, dark, dimpled grin on his face. “Though I guess I shouldn’t be. A little whore like you should know how to take a cock.”
Your cheeks blushed furiously, anger flaring back in your chest. You bit down on his fingers, hard enough to grind the bone and have him hissing, yanking his fingers back out. He glared at you before a ringed backhand cracked across your cheek, stinging and shocking you.
You gaped at him, wide eyed in shock. Eddie growled back. “You just can’t play nice, can you?” He shook his head, sighing loud and dramatic, mocking.
He shoved you back over his lap, your hands falling in front of you to stop you from face planting onto the ground. Eddie's hand's started back up, cracking down on your already flaming ass, quick and hard. No longer teasing and fun, but rather punishing and mean. Your head still reeled, throbbing between your legs.
You clenched hard, jaw tightening and fists balling. The pain on your ass was building hard, uncomfortable burn and heat radiating off your reddened skin. You could feel Eddie's erection against your hip, you hoped if you squirmed enough he would stop, but you had a feeling there was only one way he'd stop.
Eddie's rings were biting into your ass, making you jump with every hit. His ability to not let up, to keep the same rhythm was impressive if you were being honest. "For a brat you sure can take a beating." Eddie hissed. You thought he might stop, he didn't.
You whimpered, squirming your hips forward to get away from his assaulting hand. He just simply pulled you back, roughly into place, continuing again. "Eddie," You whined, hips wiggling. "Eddie, ok, stop. I learned my lesson, you can stop." You huffed.
Eddie laughed, humorlessly. "I don't think you have." He snapped, hand cracking down hard, leaving you jumping.
“I have!” You whined, a high pitched mewl that left his cock lurching, twitching at how desperate you sounded.
“Prove it.” Eddie growled, ringed hand grabbing your hair, yanking you up harshly again, back arching and dipping with the lift. You grunted at the burn in your scalp. “You said you learned your lesson, prove it.”
“How?” You huffed, teary eyed and desperate. Your cocky attitude be damned at this moment, you were determined to do anything to get him to stop and fuck you.
Eddie smirked. "You need me to tell you how to say sorry? You don't know how to apologize? God, you are such a fucking spoiled, shallow little brat aren't you." You howled in pain when his hand cracked back down, choking out a sob. 
"Fuck, ok, ok! I'm sorry, ok?" You squealed, squirming against his leg again.
Eddie snorted, mocking and unimpressed. "You call that an apology?" He sighed heavily, pushing you back forward, hand groping and squeezing your aching cheeks. "We're gonna be here all night, aren't we?"
You cried, shaking your head. "No, no, please, I-I'll be good, ok?" You sniffled. "I'm sorry." You muttered, pathetic and small.
Eddie wrenched your hair back again, making you cry out in pain. You thought he might take mercy on you. Clearly you were wrong. "What was that?" He growled. "Speak up. Loud and clear."
You sniffled hard, pinching your eyes together. "I-I'm sorry, Eddie." You let out a hard shaky breath, voice wavering with the admission. "I'm sorry for being m-mean to you."
Eddie didn't budge, holding you in that position for a moment, teetering you on the edge of anticipation, getting you squirming and whining until he finally let go. You fell forward with a small huff, his hand rubbing over your ass.
"Look, you can learn, hm?" Eddie mocked. You bristled, gritting your teeth to hold back your snappy, mean comment. "You just need to be trained, don't you? Need someone to be mean and teach you?"
You nodded, a curt bob of your head, lips pressing together to keep your sob in. Eddie pinched your hot skin, hard enough to leave you yelping. He snickered, fingers trailing up your slick thighs, his fingers sunk into your sopping hole, pumping agonizingly slow. Your clit was swollen, aching, clenching against his fingers.
"Surprise, surprise, you liked this, didn't you?" Eddie mocked.
Your face heated, eyes pinching close, squirming against his lap. Eddie's hand cracked down on your ass. "Didn't you?" He gritted.
"Yes." You sobbed, falling limp over his lap.
Eddie smirked, satisfied. He felt like he finally had you broken and desperate, pathetic the way he wanted you. His fingers curled inside you, making you gasp. Your thighs trembled, your orgasm had been building from the moment you'd walked in the movie room, inching closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy with every hard, unforgiving spank he administered to your ass. His words cruel and venomous, they should have you sobbing, running away and cursing his name, yet you couldn't wait to hear more, throbbing with every hate filled word.
You clenched, small huff escaping the back of your throat, your walls tightening around his fingers, expected and working you open magnificently. You rubbed your clit, aching with desperation against his legs, so close to your own release your eyes were rolling back, pathetic little cried and whines filling the room. It made Eddie's head spin, grinning mean and dark down at you, relishing in the way you wiggled and bucked on his lap.
You were so close, he knew that, which is exactly why he stopped. He pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch of your walls trying to vacuum him back in. Your eyes snapped up, panting and desperate with the loss of his fingers.
"What-"
Eddie pushed you off his lap, letting your knees hit the ground hard, uncaring when you shot him a displeased pout. He ignored you, shoving his jeans to the ground, boxers following with one quick swoop.
You tried not to gawk, his cock erect and angry, hanging in front of you nearly menacingly, inches from your nose. His inked body, covered in tattoos, tummy toned with the peeking of soft abs that we’re accentuated when he’d clench them, making the inked skin there move and ripple. You'd assumed everyone had exaggerated how big his cock was, the groupies that sold stories and tabloids just playing that detail up as an excuse for letting him do the things he did to them, dick drunk. You see now, that wasn't the case at all, feeling a little hypocritical for your own harsh judgements at the time.
"Get up, bend over." Eddie growled, nodding towards the chair he'd been sitting in. He stroked himself lazy and slow, cock dribbling out at the head. "You wanna cum? There's only one way you're gonna cum. Go."
You scrambled up, practically diving into the dark leather of the chair, nails scratching the thick material. Your head was reeling, pussy throbbing, aching with the way he'd edged you, toyed with you and got you so close.
Eddie snorted, shaking his head in a mocking manner. "So desperate, what a shock." He growled, lining himself up with you. He didn't bother being nice, your only warning of what's to come was the fat head of his cock pushing in your entrance, pausing when Eddie moved closer to you. "Thought you were too good for me? Look at you now."
You cried out loudly when he pushed in, filling you quickly, not giving you even a second to adjust before he pulled back out and slammed in you all over again. Your walls stretched and burn with the uncomfortable intrusion, clenching down hard on him so he cursed, sucking in a breath.
"You think you're too good for me? I think I'm too good for you." Eddie hissed, hips slamming hard against your ass, drooling at the way your red, irritated skin jumped against his. "Spoiled little bitch, you think you can just get away with treating people like shit? Being a cunt to everyone all the time because you grew up in the hills?" You panted, face buried in the leather, trying to conceal your shaky moans.
Eddie's hand in your hair wrenched you up, pulling you so you were standing on wobbly legs, his hand moving to your throat then back down to hold you across your hips. "I asked you a fucking question." He growled, nose exhaling hot air against your cheek.
You opened your mouth, dumbly letting your tongue roll out. The pressure on your neck wasn't enough to cut off oxygen, just enough to feel the pressure, but it still had you clenching hard, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Yes." You breathed out.
"Yes?" Eddie repeated, a sharp thrust that had you crying out. "You think you can treat people like shit?"
"No!" You whined, thighs trembling, tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. "No, no, no I don't! I'm sorry!" 
Eddie scoffed, letting his hand fall from your neck, your stranded moans and sobs leaving in sharp breaths out of your chest. He pounded hard into you, jabbing your g-spot relentlessly. A sloshing sound was starting to build, soft and mixing with the sound of his balls slapping against you.
Eddie pushed you back down, face first into the leather, his free hand finding your clit, the other gripping your hips hard- you knew you'd have bruises. "Spoiled little bitch," He grunted, lightly rubbing over your clit. His touch was ghosting, so light you wondered if you were hallucinating it. "Maybe I should call you a dumb little bitch instead, hm? Just dumb on my cock."
You screamed, back arching and eyes rolling when he pinched your clit, hard and round, rolling it between his pointer and thumb finger. Your legs shook, waves of pleasure washing over you until you collapsed beneath him, legs giving out. His hand on your hip and under your tummy held you up.
Eddie snickered, your wet released, sprayed out all over his pelvis, over his cock and the leather seats. He knew no now had ever done that to you, judging by the way you laid simple, head still reeling and shaking beneath him. Here you were thinking you were so much better, and yet, he was the only one who could fuck you properly.
Eddie didn't let up, didn't soften his pace, pounding into you harder and harder and harder. Your hips recoiled, fat jumping with every snap of his own hips, punishing you. He could feel you clamp around him again, tiny moans that were tired and breathy. His cock lurched, twitching deep inside of you, teeth gritting.
Eddie raised his hand, smacking your ass again, watching the way you jumped and whined, hand print fading in with the others, illuminated on your already abused skin. He tucked his lip between his teeth, eyes pinching hard shut, you'd already came again, shaking and whining around him with another pitiful little orgasm that left you dizzy all over again. Eddie grunted, jackhammering you hard before he felt his cock twitch hard, spilling deep inside you.
He thrusted slow, hard huffs of air mixed with small groans, his cock emptying deep inside of you, the sloshing sound of each thrust filling the room. "Oh, fuck," Eddie breathed out, chest heaving hard.
He looked down, creamy spend covering the base of his pubic hair, wetting it and leaving it glistening. He pulled out slow, smirking at the way your release and his dripped out of you, making a mess onto the floor.
You slid and he let you, crumpling into the floor, too tired and fucked out to make yourself stand, thighs burning and shaking, whimpering when the heels of your feet dug into your ass. Eddie smirked, smug and proud of how ruined you were now, how ruined he'd made you.
He reached for his jeans, fishing a cigarette out, lighting it while he watched you slowly drift back into yourself. Head lolling to the side, breaths evening out, and whimpering when the harsh carpet scratched against your ass. He'd nearly finished the stick when you finally looked up at him, soft eyed and glazed.
Eddie smirked, blowing smoke at you. "Welcome back, Princess," He snarled.
You rolled your eyes, half hearted and tired, shifting to gently try to stand. He grinned watching you, knocked knees, shaky legs, pushing yourself up and trying to hide your little whimpers and grunts. Still so stubborn and spoiled; he wished he was surprised.
"Finally learn your lesson?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Fuck off," You grumbled, but you couldn't bring yourself to be mean, too tired and sore.
Eddie hummed, shaking his head. "Guess we'll have to try again." He sighed, mocking and mean. You glared at him, he shrugged. "I'll break you eventually. I know there's a good girl in there deep, deep down inside."
"Yeah? Let me know when you find her." You snapped, lazily grabbing your dress. You didn't see your underwear, deciding to leave them wherever they were. You wouldn't be needing them anyways, the thought of the scratchy lace on your ass made you cringe.
Eddie laughed. "You're kinda funny when you're not so mean." He tilted his head to the side.
You gave him an unimpressed look, slipping your dress back on, haphazardly, trying to walk as straight and normal as you could past him. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you limp.
"You know where to find me next time you need to be put in your place, baby." Eddie grinned, leaning against the doorway. You turned, his cock hanging limply in front of him, and you could see how it glistened and shined in the low lights of the hallway.
"Now I know where to avoid." You snarled, mouth filling with spit at the sight of his cock, you swallowed it furiously. "We're not doing this shit again. Wasn't worth it." You bit, venomously and full of hate, eyes narrowing at him.
Eddie laughed at you, loud and mocking. "Oh, you'll be back." He said confidently. "And you know exactly where to find me. I'll see you then, Princess." He smirked, smugly, eyes rolling down your frame before he walked across the hall, shutting the door to what you assumed was his bedroom. You told yourself you'd never know, but you knew deep down that wasn't true.
You hobbled down the steps, heels in hand, hissing with stretch of your abused skin and aching pussy. Farrah grinned at you, standing from the bench by the doorway.
"Hey," She grinned, eyes lighting up in amusement.
"Don't." You snapped, shaking your head. "Just-just, get me the fuck outta here. I don't want to talk about it."
The car out front started, driving you through the gates, the soft glow of the sunrise filling the tinted windows of the car. Farrah pressed ups for questions, giggly and excited. You snarled, blaming it on the alcohol and boredom, but you knew better. You knew you'd be back, Eddie knew you'd be back, and you knew deep down that this was the beginning of something. Whether that something would be beautiful or detrimental, you weren't sure yet, but you couldn't wait to find out.
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lillaluna · 2 months
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in this world and that world
Pairing: Diluc, Childe, Ayato, Wriothesley x f!Reader
Summary: You're absolutely in love with your beautiful character from the game Genshin Impact and at one point, you meet him in your reality.
DILUC
You've had an absolutely lousy day, preceded by the same morning and preceded by the same evening. It's been like this for a month now.
Going home after work, you decided that it would not be a bad idea to buy yourself a bottle of wine, especially today was Friday. Going to the shop, you went to your favourite rack and took that bottle of wine, which you had taken almost every Friday until today.
"I'd better not take it, it's not the best vintage and…"
"I'll probably sort out my own drinking, mister!" - you were just starting to wind up, like a flame that had been inadvertently splashed with fuel. Turning round to the guy who'd made the remark you were preparing to unleash all your anger on him, but when you met his scarlet eyes you froze. Then somewhere in the back of your mind you heard the sound of breaking glass. "Diluс," you squeaked.
The guy ignoring your daze fussed around you, holding out his hand for you to safely step over the shards from the broken bottle. He kept saying that one of the staff would come and clean it up, when you automatically put your hand into Diluс's open palm, and as soon as your fingers touched you passed out.
AYATO
After waiting at the bus stop for almost an hour, you decided there was nothing more to catch there and headed home on foot. It wasn't a long walk, but you were hampered by a downpour, the first of the rainy season. Scolding yourself for forgetting your umbrella at home and pressing your head into your shoulders as if it could save you from the large drops of rain, you waited for the traffic light to turn green, standing in front of the pedestrian crossing.
And at some point, the rain stopped. No, not everywhere. The drops stopped falling on the top of your head, pouring under your clothes. Without taking your eyes off the ground you turned your head a little and saw a man's light-coloured shoes, followed by white trousers. As you looked up, you noticed a blue shirt. And a white jacket that was thrown over the man's broad shoulders.
This image already reminded you vaguely of someone, and looking up, you met the blue eyes of the guy across from you.
You must have looked like a madwoman, standing like that, under the umbrella the man held over you, while you stared at him and literally forced yourself to breathe.
"Ayato…", you whispered quietly, afraid that the magic was about to dissipate or that you'd wake up in bed sweating, but the guy across from you just smiled sweetly.
"I thought we knew each other. I can't figure out where I've seen you before".
CHILDE
Evening. Your room in the student dormitory, where you've been trying to memorise the answers to the tests for one of the most important exams of your life for the past hour. On the one hand you're let down by your absent-mindedness and lack of concentration, and on the other… On the other hand by the loud music that's blaring, as it seems to you, to the whole neighbourhood.
Unable to stand these beautiful tunes, you decide to go and deal with the troublemaker. Of course, you hope to just ask him/her to turn it down, but you don't completely dismiss the idea that you might have to fight.
You had to knock long and hard, pulling the doorknob a few times before the music stopped and you finally heard footsteps outside the door. Preparing to utter an angry tirade, you took more air into your lungs, and as soon as the door opened you let the air out like a balloon.
Your first thought was that you'd fallen asleep. Yeah you must have fallen asleep playing on your phone, and that's why in your dream you now have Childe standing in front of you and smiling cheekily, awkwardly scratching himself on the back of his head.
"I guess I did it too loud," the guy says, but you just let it pass and looking at him full in your mind's eye, you unceremoniously reach out and poke your finger right into his chest to make sure he's real.
WRIOTHESLEY
Kicking the crap out of the punching bag at the gym became your favourite method of stress relief. Channelling all the negative emotions, you excitedly sent powerful, by your standards, punches into the sports equipment hanging in front of you.
You were not a super athletic girl, but rather the opposite, more of a slim and too thin. And very uncoordinated…
The "head with ears", as you called the hairstyle of your favourite character from your favourite game, captured your attention immediately, and you completely forgot about the fact that you were about to be attacked by a freshly beaten pear.
A moment later it did, and you collapsed to the floor with a loud "oh, fuck". Dropping your gloves and rolling over onto all fours, you crawled away from the still swinging punching bag. Your head felt a little dizzy as you shook it out of your eyes. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the red sneakers, which, judging by their size, were worn on a man's feet.
"Fuck," you exhaled, and lowered your head, recognising that in a moment, you'd have to burn with shame.
Resting one hand on the floor, you pushed yourself up to squat. Slowly glancing down at your legs, your black shorts, and then your white sports shirt, you tilted your head questioningly to the side as you noticed the scars on the guy's neck in front of you.
"I can't help you if you're going to sit in that pose and stare."
You could have sworn you were ready to faint when you heard that painfully familiar voice. As you looked up sharply to the guy's face, you realised that surely the pear had hit you on the head too hard, because in front of you stood Wriothesley, the same damn Duke Meropide.
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lunas-side-anime-blog · 4 months
Text
Modern College Student/BF Eren Yeager Headcanons
Armin version: HERE
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Changed his major so. many. times.
Tried premed bc of his dad but then realized he had to take a lot of math and was like “lol no”
Was a business major for a bit but he didn’t have enough tact or strategy so dropped that pretty quick
Philosophy was next but he has such black and white way of thinking, he always got into arguments with the professors
Ethics was ruled out after like a week bc of…well, obvious reasons
Joined Armin’s major for like a month but it took so much studying and memory that he quit
Tried psych with Mikasa but yeah every teacher kept telling him to go to therapy??? And he was like “no thank you.”
Eventually i think he will land in something like sport communication or management, bc the competition really gets him fired up and he’s only good at something if he’s passionate about it
also feel like he’d be a college athlete with some scholarships so yeah, it makes sense
Not a great student tbh
Type of bitch to say “c’s get degrees.”
Really its only his public speaking skills that are keeping his grade afloat bc his presentations are sooo hype and get the class all inspired n shit
His essays and quizzes tho? Yeah, not so good
Bad at attending classes too, for sure will be like “srry my grandma died.”
And the teacher is just like “you’ve used that excuse already?twice??"
And hes just like “ugh fine you got me, I was tired and hungover”
Def tried to join a frat but Armin and Mikasa threatened to not be friends with him 
Still hangs with the frat boys a lot and is always partying with them
Pregames wayyy too hard tho, wasted before the party even starts
Unironically dances to lmfao and pitbull at college parties like “party rockers” is his fucking jam
Casual pothead, has a bong he def like nicknamed the “titan” cuz it’s so fucking huge
Will share his stash with you but like next time you got alc or bud just know he’s hitting that shit
High Eren is just really philosophical about freedom but with the munchies
Diet consists of instant ramen, mcdonalds and box mac n cheese, probably alot of redulls too
Thank god he’s athletic w a high metabolism 
Is fucking rocking the man bun and will fight you if you say otherwise
Games often with Jean, Conny and Sasha
Rage quits all the time and yes, Jean has recorded most of them for blackmail
Still uses snapchat streaks and will be so salty if one of his friends broke it
“You know nothing of loyalty. It’s one snap a day! How fucking hard was that?”  
Smells like irish spring body wash, old spice deodorant and weed
Also mint? I feel like he’s always chewing gum
One of those smokers who think he can just splash cold water on his face and chew on some gum and it wouldn’t be obvious that he’s high af
Carmex lip balm is the only slightly self care item he owns
Really into anime, loves the boss fights
I feel like he’d really like Naruto, Demon Slayer, Bnha or jojo’s bizarre adventure
You know anything with a lot of fights or training 
Ppl say he’d like Deathnote bc light but honestly I think he would get lost with all the twists and be like “why tf aren’t ppl just punching each other???”
Loves rap if he’s feeling good or screamo if he’s angry, like there's no in between lmao 
For sure listens to his music way too loud even with air pods
“Max volume isn’t enough, I wanna fuck the song” type of dude
I feel like him and Conny at one point prob tried to make a youtube channel where they like react to stuff 
Jean is the top commenter…..too bad it’s hate comments lol
Is one of those guys who has such a high body temp that even if it’s like december and snowing out, he’s still in basketball shorts and a short sleeve shirt 
Progressive bc Armin taught him how sex doesn’t equal gender, and pronouns are to be respected
Still a dick tho
“He’s such a fucking- wait hold up what are your pronouns?  They? K cool was just gonna talk shit about you but wanted to be respectful about it, thanks.”  goes back to his other conversation like, “They are such a fucking worthless cunt.”
As your bf
Probably met off tinder or something bc he is just a fuckboy looking to get his dick wet
But after fucking he just keeps hanging out with you? Or like if u get ur period or don't feel like sex he’s like, “it’s okay we can just watch a movie or something���”
So ur not quite sure if you guys are fuckbuddies or not?
It becomes kinda obvious tho if he like ever sees you with another guy and gets all up in his face like “wtf are u doing with my girl/boy?”
U guys don’t have a clear anniversary bc he never asked u to be his, it was just kinda silently agreed upon?
Clingy lil bitch after sex like will follow u to the bathroom if u let him
Needs to shower with you, otherwise you both aint showering cuz he will turn off the water 
“Now we both stinky, bitch.”
Gives me the vibe of a guy who learned sex stuff thru porn
He goes really hard, fast and will put you in crazy positions
If u have a vagina you prob will have to like teach him about clit stimulation and literally take his hand and lead it there, he’s a fast learner though 
Will pull your hair but if you dare pull his?
He'll flip you over and spank you 
Wants sooo bad to be called daddy, up to you though if u wanna call him that but you can tell he tries to lead you to say it sometimes
Not really controlling or anything, actually loves an independent partner who has their own goals 
Is insanely jealous though, the only time he’s all up on you is if he thinks another guy is trying to get on you
If you fight tbh I think Eren can be a lil brat but I think he always has a time limit 
Like..he’s the type of guy that has about three days in him of being an asshole or being in silent treatment mode before he just breaks and knocks on your door begging for forgiveness
A little toxic but again, more so about others than actually controlling you
The type to start a fight in your insta comments if anyone other than him or your besties call you hot
Will try to be cool and say “wear whatever you want, I can fight”
And he will but like will he also cry later? Yes. 
Dates with him aren’t really dates? I think his love language is quality time so he’s the type to just try to hang out and make everything a lil “date”
Lots of late night car rides where you guys just talk and share songs (also car sex if ur up to it), lazy days where you two watch movies and cuddle in bed, also I think he’s the type of bf to try to tag along with you everywhere you go and offer to get you food afterwards
Only for like birthdays or anniversaires will he try to take you out for a fancy dinner, even then you might have to drop hints that you want a nice date bc honestly he’s totally okay getting mdconalds with you and pigging out
Overall he’s kinda a scary dog privellage as a boyfriend
Whose mainly all bark and no bite
(mostly)
Fav nicknames: Babe, babygir/babyboy, sexy, shortie 
Songs that fit the vibe: 505 by Arctic Monkeys, Cherry Waves by Deftones, Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood
“I’d probably still adore you wth your hands around my neck”
“I’ll swim down with you, is that what you want?” 
“I tell you that I’m thinking about, whatever you’re thinking about”
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